


Howling Embers

by kvpowers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvpowers/pseuds/kvpowers
Summary: Eirikia Trevelyan is many, many things, but never what you would expect her to be. Mage, noble, angel.You can find pictures of her, as well as mood boards and more on my tumblr:http://kvpowers.tumblr.com/tagged/Eirikia-TrevelyanADDED: Each chapter is a song reference. I'll be adding to this list as I post new chapters:1. Wide Awake - Katy Perry2. They Don't Have Any Friends - Taking Back Sunday3. Close to You - Neon Trees4. Wicked Games - Raign5. Cloud Nine - Ben Howard6. Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier7. Captivate You - Marmozets





	1. Wide Awake

Eirikia wakes up to the sensation of her head pulsing. She groans, wondering what she did to result in a headache this strong. A few moments pass before she can feel something beyond the pain, something that seems to be _pushing_ at her insides. She’s focusing on the sensation, trying to decipher what it could be. A few moments pass before she realizes what she’s feeling is _magic_.

This alarms her, for many reasons. The first being that whatever this magic is also seemed to be what was causing her throbbing headache. The second being that _it wasn’t her magic_ , which truthfully alarmed her more than anything else. Opening her eyes, all she could see was darkness. She’s confused and afraid, unsure of _how_ this could have happened.

Shaking her head, she tries to focus on something else, lest she panic. Her body seems to be in a slightly better condition than the rest of her. She huffs, looking around the room she’s in. It’s mostly dark, save a few torches on far walls. She tries to focus on what little the light illuminates, which she is frustrated to discover isn’t much. There seems to be wooden boxes stacked near a wall, which only causes more anxiety to flare to life inside of her. _Where was she? What had happened to bring her here?_

Her palm flares to life with a thunderous crack and flash of green. She shrieks in agony at the pain it causes in her. Clenching her jaw, she takes a shaking breath. She tries to gingerly hold up her palm for examination, only to discover that her hands were bound in shackles. She’s angry now, filled to the brim with too many questions and not enough answers. She tries again, holding her hands up closer to her face. Her hand is glowing a bright green, flickering in the darkness. Squinting past the light, she can see what appears to be a cut along her palm. Yet, instead of blood, the inside is the same bright green. _This must be the source, then._ Her magic tries to reach out to the alien one, attempting to find some answers. What it finds only causes more questions that didn’t have answers.

The magic felt old, possibly ancient. She couldn’t decipher an age, only an understanding. _This hadn’t been meant for her._ It was powerful, intelligent, almost free thinking. If the situation had been different, Eirikia might have felt differently. Might have been interested, or excited, willing to look past the oddities to discover new things. Yet, as of now she was too worn and achy to see this as an opportunity.

A door slams open. Two women enter. One cloaked and hooded, skulking around to her side. The other with hair close to her scalp and looking ready to tear into an enemy. _Time to get some answers._

The latter woman draws a sword, leveling it to Eirikia’s throat. She grits out, “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” She’s angry, obviously so. Eirikia was angry too, but better able to hide it. She looks blankly at the sword, emptying it of its threat, and then over to the hooded woman. The woman threatening her growls out, “Everyone who attended the Conclave is dead. **Except for you.** ”

 _The Conclave._ Bits of memory were coming back to her now. Tiny flashes of faces, everyone upset about the war. The Conclave had been a chance for peace and understanding. _What had happened?_ Eirikia shakes her head, unwilling to believe what the woman has said. _How was everyone else dead?_ “What do you mean by that? How is that possible?” The woman pays no attention to her or her question. She draws her sword back, only to rush at Eirikia herself. She grabs her wrist, yanking it towards her. **”Explain this.”** Eirikia is teetering on an edge, a fine line testing her composure. She cooly lifts her eyes to the woman. “Actually, I was hoping that you could do that for me.” Her words are sharp, laced with venom. Her accuser snarls, moving to strike her. The hooded woman sweeps in. “We _need_ her, Cassandra.”

Eirikia is done with this foolish game. She looks from one woman to the other, seeing the emotions pouring out of them. They’re upset and angry, _but so is she._ “Look, I honestly don’t know what this is myself. However, I want to find out _just_ as much as you do.” They turn to look at her. The hooded woman seems curious, but the accusing one is still leaking anger out of every pore. “I _wish_ I could remember what happened, truly I do.” She pauses, thinking for a moment. Hesitantly she says, “I would tell you if I knew anything that might be of help. Whomever, or whatever, caused this is a threat that needs to be handled.”

The hooded woman frowns at her response, briefly letting her sadness slip through her facade. The accusing woman, who she now knows is called Cassandra, releases an exasperated breath. She flings her hands for a moment, before looking at Eirikia pleadingly. “Is there nothing you can tell us? Anything you can remember would be of great help.”

Now that her amnesia about the Conclave has passed, she tries to recall the last thing she can remember. There’s small moments, sensations. Green fog, something chasing her… and a woman? She tilts her head in confusion. “I… can only really remember running from something, and a woman helping me.” The hooded woman seems intrigued by this, changing her posture as she focuses on Eirikia. Cassandra, however, seems more exasperated by her answer. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Leliana’s eyes linger on Eirikia’s for a moment before she nods to Cassandra and turns to leave.

Cassandra bends to Eirikia, wrapping her hand around her upper arm, attempting to help her stand. She rises to her feet, unsteady for a moment. She wonders how much time has passed, how long she was unconscious in that dark room. She glances at Cassandra, whose face is stoic and hard. She hesitates, but finally decides to ask her own questions. “Is there anything _you_ can tell me about what happened? I woke up in a dark room, bound in shackles, with a _painfully_ mysterious mark on my hand.” Cassandra snorts again, but Eirikia isn’t sure if it’s disgust or amusement. Perhaps both. She lets out a sigh then, continuing to lead Eirikia wherever they intended to take her. “It… would be easier to show you.”

It’s all she can do not to scream in frustration, but she lets out a sigh of her own instead. Cassandra leads her to a set of double doors, nodding for the guardsmen to open them. The sunlight hurts her eyes for a moment, causing her to blink rapidly to adjust. Cassandra drops her arm, walking forward a few paces. Eirikia takes small steps as her eyes adjust. Finally, she looks up to find Cassandra. The woman is a few feet in front of her, staring at the sky. Eirikia lets out a loud gasp. There is a massive cyclone of green magic in the air, hovering inside a mass of storm clouds. There are flares and meteors shooting out of the it, and even from this distance she can see the explosions they cause in their wake. Cassandra turns her head slightly to look at Eirikia. “We call it The Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons —“ Eirikia’s eyes rip away from the sky to the woman. “Are you saying the Breach is a _hole in the Veil_?” Cassandra’s mouth is in a tight line as she nods in response. “There are more than one, but this is the largest. It was caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” Eirikia makes a sharp noise in her throat. This feels unreal, _implausible_ , and she’s having a hard time catching up. She lets out a breath. “That was more than a simple explosion, Cassandra.”

There’s another loud crack in the air. Her mark flares violently, as she screams and falls to her knees. Cassandra kneels in front of her, her face still stoic but concern has softened her edges. “As the Breach expands, your mark grows. We… we think it may be killing you.” Eirikia is forcing back the tears that want to come from the pain. She raises them slowly to the woman in front of her. With a troubled breath she says, “What do you mean it’s _killing me_?” Cassandra looks at her for a moment before answering. “We don’t know where it came from, but it is leeching your life. We think it may be the key to stopping the Breach, but we won’t know for certain until we test it.”

Eirikia can’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s too much, _so much_ , all at once. She blinks back more tears, knowing this isn’t the time for them. She takes a shaking and steadying breath. “Well then, I suppose we should get going.” She tries rising to her feet. Cassandra is quick to help her once again, and silently she is grateful. They walk a few moments in tense silence. Cassandra releases a tight breath, one Eirikia understands now. The woman doesn’t look at her, but quietly says, “Thank you. Amidst all of this…” She pauses, emotion seeming to catching up to her. “It is a relief that you are being so reasonable. I cannot say that I would do the same if I were in your place.” Eirikia doesn’t respond, isn’t quite sure how to. Cassandra places her hand on Eirikia’s arm, guiding her to wherever they are headed.

There’s a throng of people gathered, and it becomes clear that they know who she is. _At least, whoever they think I am._ Their stares try to burn into her, but she is not so easily fazed by such things. She straightens herself, lifting her chin. Cassandra nods to a few of them, making eye contact with others. Her looks seem to try to comfort and challenge at the same time, and Eirikia wonders just who this woman really is. “They mourn Divine Justinia. They had hoped when she brought their leaders together that there was a chance of peace. Instead, we have lost everything.” Eirikia swallows thickly at her words. She knew Cassandra had said _everyone_ , but her mind hadn’t been able to attach itself to any one person. _The Divine is dead. The Divine is dead, and yet I am alive…_

They come to another large set of double doors. Presumably, these lead out of the village. Cassandra turns to her, removing her shackles. Eirikia offers a nod as thanks and rubs the sore flesh on her wrists. She glances past Cassandra. There are piles of the dead, already wrapped. Her heart stops for a moment. There are soldiers here, fear etched onto their faces. A Chantry brother is reciting the Chant a few feet away. She wonders if he recites it out of hope or fear. Cassandra gestures ahead of her, wanting Eirikia to follow. She focuses on keeping her head upright, her breathing even. If she were to look, _even glance_ , at the scene around her - she is not sure she could hold the tears at bay.

They quickly reach another set of double doors, where Cassandra barks orders to the soldiers attending. Stepping through the doors, the chaos becomes truly visible. Barricades have been erected, soldiers stand ready behind them for a fight that may not come. The Breach is roaring, cracking, spitting - a terrifying sight. She hears a man yell, “Maker, it’s the end of the world!” She wonders how true that may yet be. Her mark flares to life with another burst of pain that bring her yet again to her knees. Cassandra is there, helping her to stand. _Maker, I am tired of this._

Cassandra looks at her out of the corner of her eyes. “They are saying that you dropped out of a rift, and then fell unconscious. They also believe they saw a woman behind you, though no one yet knows who it was.” Eirikia’s brow furrows in thought. The woman she saw seems so important, but she can’t remember any defining features about her. She huffs, angry at so many things. “They’re saying I fell out of a rift? Implying that I was inside it?” Cassandra nods. “You fell out of the Fade at what is left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Everything… everything else in the valley was destroyed, including the Temple. You will see it soon enough.”

Her mind is spinning. _I was in the Fade. **Physically in the Fade**._  If they are to be believed… _Surely, that cannot be the case…_

They’re crossing another bridge as a large meteor from the Breach crashes in front of them. The bridge shakes and then collapses, taking them down with it. They land on the hard frozen river below, barely getting their feet under them before a demon begins rising out of the ground. Eirikia is quick to throw a barrier over them both, while Cassandra draws her sword and rushes ahead. Another demon rises out of the ground in front of Eirikia. Her mouth slides into smirk as she raises her hand. A flame manifests in her palm as the demon shrieks into the air. She tosses it into the demon’s face, while casting a glyph on the ground before her. The demon panics, clawing at itself to put out the flame. It surges towards her, touching the edge of glyph only to be thrown back several feet. She walks towards it slowly, readying another ball of flame in her hand. The demon shakes off its confusion, turning its head to shriek at her again. Throwing the fireball at its feet, she then swiftly closes her hand which makes the flames roar to life. The demon is engulfed in the fire, shrieking as it burns.

She wears a smug smile as she watches the demon char and collapse. Since she’d awoken, everything had been a mess. But a demon? That was something she could handle. She looks up in time to see Cassandra plunge her sword into the chest of the demon she has been fighting. It falls away, letting out a low shriek as it perishes. She then spins, turning her sword to Eirikia. Pointing the sword at her chest, she lets out a growl. **”You’re a _mage_?”** Eirikia lets out an undignified sigh at the question. “Surely you noticed before _now_.” The warrior clenches her jaw. “We suspected magic was involved, but we did not know that _you_ were a mage.” Eirikia holds back the desire to roll her eyes. _Typical, blame the mage._ She levels her gaze on the woman. “Indeed, magic was involved. However, the sheer fact that this mark is _killing me_ should tell you that it **was not mine.** ”

Cassandra holds her gaze for a moment, issuing a challenge, before she finally sheathes her sword. “I suppose you are right. I should remember that you have been reasonable, and that this has put your life in danger. You agreed to come willingly, and that… speaks to your character.” Eirikia is grateful that the woman’s head seems to have leveled out. Although to the latter, she’s not sure how true of a statement that was. _Would I have even been able to reject coming?_ What she says however is, “Thank you. May we keep going then?”

In the end, the distance truly isn’t far, but the demons continually appearing doubles the time it would normally take them. Cassandra finds Eirikia a staff, making the fighting much easier, though she spends the fight wishing that she had her usual one.

They approach a steep hill, stone steps embedded within the earth. Beginning the ascent, Eirikia hears commotion above them. Cassandra says, “You can hear the fighting. We’re getting close.” What they’re getting close to, Eirikia cannot say. They race up the hill as fast as her body will allow. More chaos awaits them, broken and burning like all the rest. This time, however, there are a number of people fighting a short distance away. Above the fighting a green, glowing crystal hovers in the sky. It causes her mark to reacts instantaneously. Demons are amidst the group fighting, and Cassandra is quick to react. Eirikia casts a protective barrier over them both while the warrior sprints ahead. Eirikia takes a quick glance over the group to discern who needs her assistance the most. Her gaze falls on an Elven mage battling two demons by himself. Focusing her attention on him, she erects a wall of flame just before him. The demons get caught in the fire, shrieking out in pain. The man looks around in confusion. His eyes finally land on her, and he gives a nod in recognition and thanks.

The man moves himself out of melee range, and the two of them begin giving the other soldiers much needed aid. He then races over to her, grabbing her left wrist, and thrusting it into the air. “Close it quickly! Before more come through!” The mark in her palm connects with the mark in the sky, and she feels a pulling sensation reverberating up her arm. The tear in the sky seals, the air snapping back into place. She tugs her arm out of his hold, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and alarm. “Would you care to explain what my hand just did?” There’s a dull ache throughout her arm; she rubs it while continuing to study him.

The Elven man smirks at her, only before cautiously glancing down and clasping his hands in front of him. She narrows her eyes at him. “The magic that caused the Breach also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that perhaps it would also allow you to have some control over the rifts left in the Breach’s wake. It would seem I was correct.” Cassandra speaks as she walks up behind them. “Then it might also be able to close the Breach itself.” The man nods, smiling again. Eirikia continues to study him, sensing something unusual about the man. “Possibly.” He turns his gaze to her, smile broadening. “It would seem you hold the key to our salvation.”

She ignores the better part of her gut reactions. Smiling sweetly at him, she feigns mild curiosity. “You seem to know a great deal about all of this.” She gestures to where the rift had previously been. “Cassandra comes to stand beside her. “Solas is an apostate, and knows much about the Fade.” This new information sends her gaze back to the Elven man, no longer feigning the curiosity in her. She wasn’t wary of apostates, not truly. Her curiosity was drawn in by such a _bold_ choice of topics to specialize in. He bristles at Cassandra’s statement, looking rather disgusted. “Technically _all_ mages are now apostates, Cassandra. But, yes. My experience has allowed me to learn a great deal more than any Circle mage.”

Eirikia raises a brow at him. She wonders if he actually knows anything about the Circles or bases his knowledge solely on that he has heard. Another voice appears from her side. “Whatever he knows, it kept you alive while you were out. Apostate or not, he’s useful.” She turns to watch a dwarf sling a large crossbow to his back. He offers a hand for her to shake. “Varric Tethras. Rogue. Story teller. Occasionally unwelcome tag along.” He winks at Cassandra, who scowls at him. Eirikia looks between the two, amused. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Varric. Tell me, would you happen to be the same Varric Thethras who writes the novels?” The dwarf’s entire face lights up, his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline in delight. “You’ve heard of me?” _Have I heard of him._ Eirikia releases a light scoff from her throat. “Oh yes. _Swords and Shields_ was vastly popular among the girls in the Circle.” A mixed look of horror and unbelief crosses his face. “Oh. Well. Those are my worst stories, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The Elven man interrupts. “If we are to be having introductions, my name is Solas.” _Solas. Pride._ She flicks her gaze back to him, evaluating him momentarily before turning to give him her full attention. “It would appear that owe you my thanks, Solas. My name is Eirikia Trevelyan.”Cassandra intakes a sharp breath, while Varric releases a snort of laughter. Cassandra looks at her with surprise and confusion. “You’re a _Trevelyan_?” When Eirikia smiles at the woman, she realizes she’s being condescending. She truly does. However, they had her imprisoned and battling demons all over the countryside, and they had not yet asked her for her name. “I am. I am sorry that it did not come up before now.” _I’m sorry you didn’t think to ask your prisoner her name before now._

Solas looks at the trio with a clear look of confusion on his face. Varric chuckles at his expense. “Seeker didn’t know her prisoner was a noble!” Cassandra scowls at him again, while Solas’s expression changes into shock. He recovers quickly, saying, “She may be a mage, a _noble_ mage, but I doubt any mage of being capable of what happened here. I do not think she is the one responsible.” Cassandra lets out a breath, turning to Eirikia. “I had expected as much. My Lady, I apologize for our treatment of you.” Eirikia waves her hand in dismissal. “In your place, I would have done the same, Cassandra. I am hardly offended.” Cassandra offers her a slight bow. “Then let us press on to the Breach.”

They encounter several pockets of demons along the path, but with added aid of Solas and Varric, they are able to make short work of it. They were finishing a skirmish with one such force when Varric decides to make small talk. “So you’re a Free Marcher. I’m from Kirkwall myself.” Eirikia looks at the pile of shades they had just battled before turning to look at the dwarf. “I have heard stories about the Mage Uprising in Kirkwall. Tell me, was it truly as bad as everyone says?” She gestures for him to walk besides her as they press on. “Honestly, it was probably worse.” She nods glumly. They had heard about Kirkwall, of course. Everyone had. However, the Circles in the Free Marches had to deal with the immediate aftermath more than anywhere else. Some mages sought out their Circle, some Templars left to aid Kirkwall, questioning whispers of _Will it happen here next?”_ “I suppose I should be grateful that Ostwick’s tower stayed in neutrality.”

Ostwick’s Circle was one of the few Circles where the average mage seemed to enjoy their stay there. When the time came to vote, they hadn’t shown partiality to one side or the other, because to them it truly had not mattered. Cassandra looks at her curiously. “But what of you, my Lady?” Eirikia releases a short breath through her nose. She raises her chin just the slightest amount, leveling her eyes ahead of her. “I am partial to the side that does not treat mages as though they are of _lesser value_ than someone else. Past that point, Cassandra, I do not care.” The Seeker hums a response. Solas, however, is quick with his heated rhetoric. “You do not care if mages are locked away in a tower like prisoners?” There’s thinly veiled disgust in his tone that makes her want to turn on him.

Had they not been continuing on what seemed an endless path of flame and dead bodies, she might have spun on her heels to face him. She might have let the gold ring around her irises light up the way they do when she practices pyromancy. She might have used a number of the baseless tricks that nobles use when attempting to win debates. Instead, she slides a steely gaze to him. “As an apostate, I would presume that you have never actually _been inside_ a Circle Tower. There are many that consider it a prison, yes. They crave freedom or rebellion, but for most of us it is a haven of knowledge and learning from the outside world.” She waves a hand, gesturing around them. “Out here,we are seen as monsters, forced to shrink or hide away in order to protect ourselves. In the Circle, however, you are free to simply be what you were made to be. Depending on the Circle, often mages that prove to be above reproach are allowed to leave the tower as they wish. Yet, always they return. They know they are safer there.” She glances at him, curious to see his reaction. His jaw is clenched, muscles in his neck constraining. Something about her answer was not what he expected it to be. _Good._

Surprisingly, Varric was the first one of the group to respond. “But, what about the Templars? Most mages I know hate them.” She hesitants a moment before responding. Templars _were_ a difficult subject. “Occasionally, they are the right tool for the task at hand. More often than not, they stand stoically in rooms simply observing.” She pauses here, wanting them to hear her next words carefully. “As for the rest, the ones that mages fear and stories speak of… what happens is what _always_ happens when one group is taught to believe they have power while the other group is merely weak.”

She is not surprised when they walk in silence for a time. Ostwick’s Circle was imperfect like all the others, but Eirikia had given freely of herself to make it a home for all those within it. Any blanket statements made about how awful the Circles were felt like personal attacks to her efforts over the last decade.

She’s lost deep in nostalgia when her mark flares to life again. Unsheathing her sword, Cassandra runs ahead. “Another rift! We must close it!” The group is flung into action again. Wisps and shade demons cluster around them. Eirikia’s fire and Varric’s bolts make quick work of the wisps, while Solas’s ice and Cassandra’s sword handle the shades. Solas shouts to Eirikia, reminding her to use the mark on the rift. She raises a hesitant hand, feeling it connect and pull from within her, before snapping shut again. A weary soldier at the gate peaks his head out. “Thank the Maker! They just kept coming!” He quickly users them through the gate’s door before slamming it close behind them.

Eirikia’s gaze lands on Leliana, looking agitated and worn. She stands with her hands on her hips in frustration while verbally sparring with a Chantry brother. As they approach, she lets out a ragged sigh, gesturing to them. “Grand Chancellor, this is —“ The man cuts her off, pointing an angry finger at their group. “I’m well aware of who she is. As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I order you —“ Cassandra releases a snarl from deep in her throat. “ _Order me?_ You have no authority over me, Chancellor.” His gaze pins her, matching her anger with his own. “As we have no Divine to give orders, _someone_ must.”

Eirikia crosses her arms at her chest, watching them. Solas lets out a exasperated sigh from behind her, which she uses as the motivation she needed. “I would think closing the Breach would be our primary goal here, Chancellor. Lives are lost with inaction.” He spins, his beady eyes trying to bear into her now. “You _caused_ the Breach in the first place!” Cassandra moves in front of her, protectively. “I do not believe that, and right now she is our best hope at stopping this.” The Chancellor shakes his head, letting out a sigh. “Your soldiers will die before you can get into the valley, Seeker.”

Leliana had stepped back to let the Seeker handle the Chancellor, but now she steps forward again. “Our forces can cause a distraction while we take the path up the mountain. It’s not as direct, but it would feasibly be safer.” Eirikia uncrosses her arms, trying not to growl in frustration. “I will not allow good men and women to die covering for me. If we go with the soldiers directly into the valley, at least I can _help them fight._ ” Cassandra looks at her, surprised and more than a little pleased.

————

The chaos increases in intensity the closer they get to the Breach. Mangled bodies litter the mountainside, charred and blackened. Her will wavers as the numbers increase. It requires a strength she had not known she possessed, and the realization scares her as much as it comforts. Soldiers and Chantry brothers fill in a tight space outside the Temple, healing or wrapping bodies. Everything smells like burnt skin and soot and the Fade. She focuses her gaze ahead of her, jaw tight and attempting to breathe as little as possible.

They reach what she assumes was another set of double doored gates, but are now just charred pieces of wood affixed to stone. Up ahead is another rift with countless soldiers battling demons. The group races ahead, Eirikia throwing a barrier around the soldiers already in battle and Solas casting one for them. She twirls her staff, hitting hard against the stone. She casts multiple paralyzing glyphs around the battlefield allowing the soldiers to make their killing blows. A cheer erupts from the soldiers as they realize a break has finally been made in the battle. It’s sort lived, however, as the rift pulses to life again, streaming paths of incoming demons. Solas races up to her side. “Another wave is coming!” The soldiers all enter a bracing stance. He glances at her. “If you can dispel the streams before the demons appear, it will negate the incoming group.” She takes a breath, nodding, before they both turn to the rift. Combining their efforts allows them to cancel half of the incoming demons, which in turn allows the entire field to finish off the last set more easily. She glances around. Seeing the demons gone, Solas nods to her, jerking his chin towards the rift for her to finish it. Her hand juts into the air for the third time that day, attaching and pulling before the air snaps.

The soldiers cheer again. Eirikia rubs the marked spot on her hand, grinning as she sees no soldiers died while she was able to help. Solas and Varric come to stand beside her. The Elven man watches her rubbing her hand. “You seem to becoming quite proficient at this.” She lets out a small snort. “All I do is raise my hand to the sky. That hardly requires any proficiency.” Solas presses his mouth into a line, and she’s unsure what that means. Varric, however, lets out a laugh full of relief. “Well, let’s hope your lack of proficiency works on the big one then.” Amused, she smiles at him.

Behind her, she hears a man call out. “Lady Cassandra! Thank the Maker you were able to close that rift! It’s been difficult on our soldiers to maintain.” Eirikia turns to see the newcomer. A man was talking to the Seeker. He was tall, broad shouldered, and _definitely_ a templar. She releases a short breath, slightly disappointed. Cassandra half turns to face her, pointing. “Do not thank me Commander, this was her doing.” The man’s gaze follows her gesture, looking over to Eirikia. She smiles warmly, despite herself. _He may be a Templar, but he’s **very pretty._ ** The Commander studies her for a split second. “Is that true? I hope this means they were right about you. A lot of people have died.”

And just like that, the air leaves her lungs. Her smile falters. She looks down at her feet for a moment, gathering herself, before looking up and locking eyes with the man. “I hope they’re right, too, Commander.” Something in his face softens. He swallows and gestures towards the Temple. “Yes, well. The way ahead is clear, for the moment. Leliana is meeting you there.” He holds her gaze for a moment before looking back to Cassandra. “Maker watch over you all.”

Her eyes linger on the man as he sprints up to a limping solider, wrapping the man’s arm around his neck. Cassandra joins them, gesturing for them to continue ahead. As they approach the Temple remains, once again everything becomes worse than Eirikia imagines it possible can. Here, the bodies are more prominent, left in states of horror and agony. She quickens her steps as her stomach lurches, and tears prick her eyes. _Later, later, there will be time later._

The group walks into the remains of the Temple. She can hear the Breach before she sees it, crackling and rumbling. Seeing it, however, is an extremely humbling sight. The magic in her hand reacts, flaring and flickering, responding to a call she cannot hear. She holds her hand up, observing it in awe for a brief moment. Cassandra walks up besides her, pulling her from her thoughts. “This is your chance. _Our_ chance to try and end this.” Eirikia looks from the woman to the Breach. “I will do my best.” Solas is at her other side. “This rift was the first and the largest. If you can close it, perhaps you can seal the Breach as well.” Eirikia gives a curt nod, continuing to stare at the massive expanse in the sky. She hears Cassandra giving orders to the soldiers that have gathered, but she takes a small moment to center herself.

After another moment, she turns stone faced to Cassandra, Solas, and Varric. She nods to them, letting them know she’s ready. They begin the descent to the ground level of the Temple when a booming voice echoes around them. _“Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”_ Cassandra keeps walking, but her body tenses. “What are we hearing?” Eirikia glances around them and then to the Seeker. “Presumably, that is the voice of the person responsible for all of this.”

They approach the stairs that lead down into the main section of rubble. Large, red crystal masses begin to appear. From behind her, Varric intakes a sharp breath. “That’s… that’s _red lyrium._ ” Eirikia whips her head to look at him and then back to the masses. Her voice is hardly more than a whisper when she speaks. “Varric, isn’t red lyrium what caused Knight-Commander Meredith to go mad?”

Even in Ostwick, they had heard the tales. Notices had been sent across the Free Marches’s Circles to destroy the corrupted lyrium should it appear. If it was _here_ along with the Breach… she couldn’t fathom this being a coincidence. The Breach might have been the cause and lyrium the effect, at the very least, but it definitely did not seem accidental. She glances back to Varric, whose face has hardened considerably. “Yeah, it was. _Why is it here?_ ” Solas tries to offer his theory. “Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…” Varric releases an exasperated huff. “It’s _evil_. Don’t touch it. Or breathe it. Or even get near it.”

The voice booms around them again. “Keep the sacrifice still.” They’re on a final section of half melted stairs when another voice echoes around them. “Someone! Help me!” Cassandra exhales in a startled breath. “That’s Divine Justina!” They arrive at the ground level when Eirikia’s own voice fills the space. _“What’s going on here?”_ Cassandra and her look at each other in surprise. “That was _your_ voice… she.. she called out to _you_.” Then a vision appears in the air in front of them. The Divine is being held in place by swirling masses of red energy, matching the glow of a looming figure. A vision of herself storms the scene. **_”What’s going on here?”_** The looming figure points to her. “We have an intruder. Kill her.” The Divine looks pleadingly at Eirikia. “Run while you can! Warn them!” The air fizzles and snaps, much like the rifts.

Cassandra is quick to turn on her. “What is this? What did we just see?” Eirikia hears her question, but her mouth has gone dry. She hears Solas answer from behind her. “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” She turns slowly to look at him and then shifts her gaze to where the vision had been. _She had been there when the Divine was murdered._ This implicated her, surely, but she didn’t even have this memory for herself. Warning signals go off in her mind, pushing her to panic or rage. Had she unknowingly been involved in the murder of the Most Holy? Had she done _everything_ in her power to save her? _What had truly happened?_

She’s finding it difficult to breathe, to process thoughts, to focus on the world around her. She had thought herself strong, made of steel and fire and the wings of angels. Yet, _how could she be strong here?_

Solas’s voice finally lifts her from the darkness of her thoughts. “This rift has not fully opened. We need to open it completely in order to seal it using the mark. This will, however, draw attention from the other side.” She takes a breath, focusing herself before smirking. “That means demons. Good. I could use a fight right now.” Cassandra makes a snort of agreement at her side before she shouts orders to the soldiers.

When Cassandra gives the signal, Eirikia propels her hand into the sky. The rift expands, streams leaking out of it, and a massive figure starts to materialize. _Pride demon._ She casts a barrier on everyone nearest the demon. Solas appears at her side. “If you get a clear opening, use the mark again. It will weaken its defenses, making it easier to kill.” She nods. Looking over to the demon, she throws a fireball at its face while Solas freezes its legs, allowing the warriors to move in. She takes this opportunity to fade step to the opposite side to use the mark on the rift. The Pride demon falls to its knees. The archers react quickly hitting its shoulders, head, and eyes. More demons appear through the rift as Cassandra appears at her side. Together, they make easy work of them.

They repeat this several times before the demon stays down. Eirikia hurls a fireball at its feet, pulling her fist down to create a full flame while Cassandra leaps in for the killing blow between the eyes. Solas yells from somewhere behind her, and she spins to close the rift.

Her mark connects, pulling more vigorously than before. The current feels as though it will pull her in. A thunderous noise echoes around them. She hears people cheering. Her vision blurs, her balance waning, and then…. _darkness._


	2. But You Can't Stop Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in Haven, meeting the Advisors, joining the Inquisition - oh my!

_**** _

She awakens at the sound of a nearby door opening and closing. A moment passes before she is able to open her eyes, but finally she manages. Her sight lands on an Elven girl. Eirikia tries to sit up, causing the girl to startle and spin to face her. “Oh! My Lady, I am so sorry!” Eirikia gives her a weak smile. “You have done nothing wrong, Da’len.” The girl falters at the sound of the Elven language. Even city elves know enough to recognize the old tongue. “You… you speak Elven, My Lady?” Eirikia gives her a tired wink. “I picked up bits of the language while in the Circle.” Looking around, she’s not sure where she is. _Yet again._ This time, however, it is not a dark dungeon but a brightly lit cabin. _Perhaps there is hope yet._ “Do you mind telling me where I am, Da’len?”

Eirikia glances back to the girl to find her openly staring at her. She seems both fascinated by her, and unsure how to best handle the situation. “You… you are back in Haven, my Lady. This is your cabin.” She wrings her hands nervously in front of her. Eirikia tries to offer a comforting smile. “I see. Do you know what happened? The last thing I remember was fighting a demon at the Breach.” The girl’s entire face changes, barely able to contain her excitement. “Yes! They say you stopped the Breach from growing! It’s all anyone can talk about! They say you saved us!” She seems to catch herself amidst her excitement, as she stops suddenly to bite her lip. Eirikia laughs, smiling more warmly at the girl who is quickly turning red. “Well, that is much better than I expected. Can you tell me how long I was unconscious?”

The girl is looking at her hands clasped in front of her, obviously still embarrassed by her own outburst. “It’s been three days, my Lady.” _Three days. More time unaccounted for._ Eirikia looks at her own hand, and is pleased to find the mark much calmer than it had been before. She purses her lips in thought, raising her eyes to the girl before her. “What happens now?” The girl flusters again, the blush creeping more readily. “I… I must report back to the Chantry, my Lady. Lady Cassandra asked me to tell her when you’d awoken.” Eirikia nods in response. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she tries to rise to her feet. Failing, she stumbles back onto the bed in a huff. The girl rushes forward, offering her much smaller frame in support. “They say your mark is stable, my Lady, but I think it must have taken a lot out of you. I can send for the healer if you’d like.”

Eirikia rises to her feet, using the small girl’s frame more for support than she would care to admit. She takes a moment before moving, letting a wave of dizziness pass. Taking her arm weight from the girl, she straightens herself. The Elven girl watches nervously from the side, in case she is needed again. “Thank you, Da’len, but no. I have been in bed for three days now, and I would very much like some answers.” She takes an unsteady step, nearly falling. The girl rushes forward again, but Eirikia holds up a hand to stop her. “If you’re sure, my Lady…” The girl watches closely as Eirikia takes a shaky step. And then another.

After a few uncertain steps, she pauses to collect herself. “I am, Da’len, but thank you. I would, however, like to accompany you to the Chantry, if you don’t mind.” The girl nods nervously, following closely behind Eirikia as she exits the cabin. Once outside, the girl steps forward, now needing to guide them. Eirikia smiles and nods in thanks. “What is your name, Da’len?” It becomes quickly obvious that the girl is not often asked this question, and it takes her a moment to answer. “E…Elaine, my Lady. My name is Elaine.” People have begun to watch them, and Elaine’s eyes widen in response before her gaze shifts to her feet. Eirikia notices, smiling at the few who meet her gaze. Murmuring is thickening the air behind them, causing Eirikia to wonder if she unknowingly lead Elaine into danger.

Elaine walks beside her, eyes downcast, hands wringing with a nervous fervor. “Elaine, you have been very helpful today. Thank you. I will let Lady Cassandra know how much you helped me as I awoke.” A blush creeps up Elaine’s neck, quickly bathing her face in red. Erika’s brows furrow in concern at the small Elven girl who looks on the verge of panicking. Discreetly, she places two fingers on the pulse point of the arm closest to her. She casts a calming spell, glancing to Elaine to gauge its helpfulness. The effect seems instantaneous. As the sweat and blush fade from her face, she smiles up at Eirikia in thanks.

Reaching the Chantry, they are met with a small crowd of people. Chantry brothers and sisters line the outside walls, hands pressed to their chest. Eirikia meets their gaze, smiling brightly, even while she’s unsure what this is about. Several blush at the attention, others responding with narrowed gazes. As they enter the Chantry, raised voices can be heard. A male voice carries the loudest, and Eirikia recognizes it even as she cannot place it. Cassandra’s voice, however, is unmistakable. Elaine walks her to the back of the Chantry, pausing before a closed door. “I should announce you first, my Lady.”

Eirikia understands the rules of this game and nods to Elaine. The Elven girl turns to the door, knuckle feebly. The voices inside quiet as a guard opens to Elaine inside. Sheepishly, she ducks into the room. “I am sorry to interrupt, my Lady, but the Herald has awaken and is here to see you.” _Herald?_ Erika’s face pinches in curiosity, but quickly settles into a demure smile as Cassandra appears at the door, ushering her inside. Eirikia offers a smile and nod to Elaine in gratitude as she walks past her into the room.

Entering the room, she is quick to note the amount of tension in the air. Leliana stands behind a large table, arms crossed and frustration clear on her face. Chancellor Roderick stands opposite her, his face red and splotchy. He seems unable to curb his anger, as he is visibly shaking as she enters the room. _It must have been him we could hear all the way at the front of the Chantry…_ She smiles sweetly at him, only to be met with a pricking gaze of hatred. This does not faze her the way he expects it to, which irritates him more. “She must be taken to the Capital for trail! Guards, arrest this woman!” Eirikia’s brows raise slightly as Cassandra signals to the guards to dismiss the man. Her brows knit together as they turn on the man. “You do not have the authority here, Chancellor. Watch yourself.” The look she pins on him is that of full authority and power, looking at one deemed beneath her. “The Breach is still a threat, and she is our only hope of fixing the damage that has been done.”

The Chancellor lets out an undignified puff of air. “She _caused_ this mess, Seeker!” Cassandra waves her hand in dismissal. “I do not believe that, Chancellor.” Eirikia’s own frustration is rising as she listens to this group decide her fate. “Chancellor, I understand how my survival implicates me. I am unsure what caused me to survive when so many others perished, but I would like the opportunity to find the answer. I, too, am confused and heartbroken over this disaster.” His gaze narrows, but she has briefly paused his seething. Leliana takes a half step forward, reasserting herself into the conversation. “Someone is responsible for the death of everyone that attended the Conclave, including Most Holy. Perhaps they died, or perhaps they and their allies yet live.” The Chancellor’s gaze tears over to her. “But _she_ is not a suspect?” Cassandra responds, full of conviction. “I heard the voices in the Temple, Chancellor. The Divine called out to her for help. Clearly, this shows she was not responsible.”

He stares at the Seeker with an expression of disbelief. “So… what are you saying? That she just _happened_ to be at the right place at the right time? That this is all just a coincidence?” Cassandra gives a short shake of her head. “No, providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour. Now we have a chance, a hope, amid all the darkness.” Cassandra’s gaze is filled with sorrow and hope as it moves to her. Eirikia feels stifled, frustration and relief dancing in her chest. She doesn’t want to be a Chosen One, doesn’t want people looking to her for hope and guidance. Yet, if it’s between a murderer or a Chosen One, the choice is easy. She smiles at the woman. “Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.”

A small sob comes out of Cassandra as her face breaks into an approving smile. “Everything was lost… Everyone that could have helped had perished… and there you were. A beacon of hope.” _Sure, alright, that sounds better than possibly a mass murderer._ Eirikia releases a small laugh. “A glowing green beacon of magical hope.” Leland’s gaze is pinned on her now. “Surely you must see that this could not be happenstance.” _I’m not sure what to believe at the moment._ The Chancellor interrupts her thoughts. “This is not for you to decide. She must be taken to Val Royeaux to be judged by the few remaining Chantry officials with power.”

Cassandra turns from the table, walking into the darkness in the back of the large room. When she reappears, she’s holding a large tome and a wearing a smile of satisfaction on her face. She tosses it onto the table, pointing at it with ferocity. “Do you know what this is, Chancellor?” The man clenches his jaw in response. “This is a write from the Divine, granting us the power to act. With or without your help or the Chantry’s.” She moves her pointing finger to the man, stepping closer to him with each word. “We will find those responsible, and we will fix this mess.” The Chancellor throws up his hands in frustration, letting out a huff as he spins to leave the room. Cassandra sighs heavily as Leliana watches the woman. “This is it, then. We declare the Inquisition.”

Eirikia had been watching in silence for several moments, but this is something she cannot ignore. “You… you are starting an **_Inquistion?_** ” Cassandra wipes a hand down her face before turning to her. “The powers that should have protected have failed. There is no one left to stand against the chaos, much less the Breach.” Leliana shakes her head gravely. “We have no numbers. No support. We aren’t ready… but we have no choice.” They look at each other in silence for a moment before turning to look at her. Cassandra steps closer to her. “We would like to ask you to join us. We realize being a mage and bearing the mark that you will need protection—“ Leliana cuts her off. “If your mark is truly the only thing capable of closing the Breach, we implore you to aid us.”

Eirikia is stunned into silence as she processes what they are saying. With this mark on her hand, and no answers as to where it came from, she couldn’t leave. She could try her best to use her family’s resources to discover the truth, but she knew that would only lead her back here. Whatever she wanted to do, this is where she could help.

She lifted her head, focusing on the women. She answered before she lost her courage. “If you truly wish to restore order… then yes. I will join the Inquisition.”

———  
**_I joined the Inquisition._**

It went against her better judgement and any sense of self preservation she had to join the group. Her entire life, she had used her title and social standing as an armor. Anything brave or rebellious she had accomplished was by convincing those around her that it was _normal_. She had tried to better the life of those in the Circle with her, using her influence and cleverness as a disguise. Yet this? This made her feel vulnerable, as if she’d been thrown naked into a crowd. This had not been a clever ruse, carefully crafted. This had been abrupt decision made in a moment of weak strength. _I may live to regret this…_

She worries the inside of her lip as she makes her way to the doors of the Chantry. The women have dismissed her for the time being, suggesting that she better acquaint herself to the village. As she reaches the heavy double doors, she takes a moment to school her features into neutrality. Pushing open the door, she exits out into Haven.

Haven is… small. However, she doubts the Divine had plans to start the Inquisition until sometime after the Conclave, and surely not in a small mountain village. Around her, she sees mostly Chantry sisters trying their best to serve given the circumstances. She sees a few that seem to be barely concealing their grief as they help the people of the village. The villagers, she notices, number quite a few. Perhaps many of them are Inquisition workers, though it would be hard to discern.

Three large tents are placed not far from the Chantry’s doors. The middle one being larger than the others, it’s flaps pinned back to reveal what appears to be a makeshift office space. She chooses that as her first destination, determined to find some way to begin helping. _If I’m going to do this, I need to start._ The people Haven begin to notice her again. A few seem awestruck, several perhaps angry, and more still seem unsure. Though it is a short walk to the tent, she bears her best noble smile to the scrutiny.

Reaching the tent, she releases a heavy breath. There are two people here that were not visible from outside. Both are dressed in matching uniforms bearing a sigil of what she can only assume is for the newborn organization. They turn as they hear her approach. Quickly, it becomes clear that _she was not the one they expected to see_. They both fluster for a moment before going rigid and raising their fists to their chests in salute. She smiles, nodding to them in greeting. A boy and girl, both looking to be around the same age as Eirikia. “Do both of you work for the Inquisition?” The girl glances to the boy before answering. “Yes, my Lady. We are scouts for Sister Leliana.” Eirikia raises a brow. _What does a Sister need scouts for?_ “I see. Is that perchance what this tent is used for?” The boy glances at the girl, unsure. The girl jerks her head towards Eirikia. “Uh… yes, my Lady. This is Sister Leliana’s workspace. We were waiting for her to finish her meeting.”

Eirikia smiles warmly at them both, trying to make them more at ease. “Sister Leliana and Cassandra are meeting alone for the moment, but I am sure they will be finished shortly.” They offer her a nod and a small bow. “What are your names?” She has learned that people do not expect this of her, and expect even less for her to remember. Yet, she always does. It reminds her who she is, the title she carries and the weight of it. It is such a simple thing, yet it seems to help both parties so much. The girl’s face flashes with surprise. “I am Judith, my Lady.” She turns her face, raising her eyebrows at the boy. “And I’m… Brom, ma’am.” Her smile widens. “Judith. From. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

A voice from behind her startles them. “I meant figure out where the bath house is, but I suppose meeting my agents falls under ‘get acquainted with the village’ as well.” Eirikia turns to see Leliana, her arms crossed as she leans on her back leg. There is no mistaking the amusement on her face. Eirikia offers her a coy smile in return. “I was merely curious about this tent. I did not intend to question anyone initially.” Leliana lets out a small laugh as she enters the tent. Judith and Brom hand her their reports before quickly exiting. This makes Leliana laugh more as she places the reports on a table beside her. “Scouts try not to be seen, typically. I think, perhaps, you startled them.”

Eirikia looks at the woman in amusement. “To be fair, I did not actually notice them until I was inside the tent itself. So they seem to be doing their job at least half right.” Leliana makes a sound that seems to be both scoff and laugh as she turns to look at a map spread across the table. “Cassandra and I are ready for you to meet the other key members of the Inquisition.” She studies the map for another moment before bringing her gaze up to Eirikia. “With your mark, you may be a key part in what unfolds here. However, your nobility and mage upbringing may also be helpful.” Eirikia cannot help how easily it is for her to slide into a defensive stance. She crosses her arms, eyes communicating to the woman to be careful. “Tell me, Sister Leliana, why my ‘mage upbringing’ would be helpful?” Leland’s gaze matches her unspoken challenge. “We’re in the middle of a mage and templar war. Surely, you can see the benefits of having a mage that can speak for them?”

Eirikia chastises herself. Of course she should see the benefits of it, even if the idea terrifies her. She uncrosses her arms, letting them fall at her side. “You are right. There _are_ many benefits in giving the mages a voice where they previously had none. I am simply surprised to find myself in the position to speak for them.” Leliana studies her for a moment, and Eirikia finds herself unsettled. The woman’s gaze seems to see into her soul, past her facade, and that idea unnerves her. Leliana straightens herself, looking up at Eirikia. “I applaud you, my Lady, for wanting to be careful. However, you would do well to remember that people died when no one speaks.”

Her gaze lingers on Eirikia for another moment, letting her words linger in the air. Finally, she takes a step forward, gesturing for Eirikia to follow. “Come now. Let us go meet with the others.” Eirikia releases a breath through her nose as she turns to follow. They walk in silence for a time, her mind processing what Leliana had said. She wants to be brave, has always wanted to be. Yet, whether as a noble or a mage, she is too heavily scrutinized to afford bold acts. _What would doing so now lead to?_ She is deep in thought when Leliana speaks.

“Does the mark trouble you?” Eirikia looks down at her hand. At the naked eye, it appears normal, and she’s grateful for that small blessing. It only became apparent, it seems, near a rift. She tucks that thought away later to analyze before meeting Leliana’s gaze. “It no longer hurts, but I do wonder where it might have come from.” The woman nods her response. “As do we. Solas has been unable to decipher much about it.” Eirikia’s brow knits together slightly at the mention of the Elven mage. Perhaps if the two of them worked together, they might be able to glean some useful information from the mark. _I should seek him out as soon as I am done here._ They approach the door that Elaine had brought her to earlier today. Leliana knocked once, announcing them before entering.

The large table is still in the middle of the room, but now with an equally large map sitting atop it. Standing around the table are three people, all turned to her as she enters. Leliana leaves her side, walking around to stand with the others. She glances at them and back to Eirikia, a pleased smile on her face. Eirikia is not surprised to see Cassandra, who steps over, taking Leliana’s place at her side. The woman gestures to the three standing behind the table. “We would like you to meet the key members of the Inquisition.” She gestures to Leliana, who’s still wearing her proud smile. “You, of course, already know Leliana. She is our spymaster.” Leland’s smile broadens, becoming a bit mischievous. _Well, now the scouts make more sense._ Eirikia gives the woman a smirk in return. _Well played, Leliana._

Cassandra shifts her hand, gesturing to the next person. “You met Commander Cullen briefly. He is in charge of the Inquisition’s forces.” It was the Templar they had encountered outside the Temple. He offers her a feeble smile. She remembers their brief exchange on the battlefield, and wonders if perhaps he is embarrassed by it. _Or, more likely, he’s uncomfortable with a mage being here._ She offers a warm smile, hoping to disarm any illusions he has of her. He blinks a few times, obviously not used to being regarded this way by mages. _Good. We aren’t monsters. We’re people, too._

And lastly, Cassandra shifts her hand to a dark skinned woman dressed in gold finery. “And this is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our Ambassador.” The woman offers her a warm smile and a nod. _Oh, she’s good._ “Welcome, my Lady. I understand that you are of House Trevelyan?” Eirikia is pleased that this introduction follows protocol, after the amusing if not exasperating, blunder on the journey to the Temple. She returns the woman’s warm smile with a genuine one of her own. “Indeed, I am, madam. My name is Eirikia Trevelyan, second born of the current line of Trevelyans, as well as Enchanter in the Ostwick Circle.” Josephine, obviously pleased with her response, widens her smile before she being writing. She glances down at the large wooden slab the woman is carrying, that seems to be something of a portable desk. _I must discover where she acquired such a thing…_

Commander Cullen speaks up, interrupting her brief daydream. “Aren’t you a bit young to already be an Enchanter?” Erika’s face turns hard, her eyes sliding over to the Commander. She levels a cold stare on him for a moment before answering. “ _Age_ has nothing to do with _skill_ , Commander.” He visibly recoils, his hand shooting up to the back of his neck. “Then you… must… ah,” he clears his throat before continuing. “You must be quite talented then.” He seems nervous now, unsure of what to say. “My First Enchanter seemed to think as much, yes.” Cassandra intercedes here, much to Cullen’s relief. “We invited you here to discuss your role in the Inquisition.” Cullen slumps momentarily before straightening himself again. The Seeker glares at him before turning to look at Eirikia.

Lady Josephine gracefully interjects the tension. “Yes. The people are calling you the Herald of Andraste, which is raising the ire of the Chantry. You are a mage, as well as being the only one some can blame for the Breach.” Eirikia falters, her mouth falling open in shock. She shakes her head slightly in disbelief before giving the woman a curious stare. “Why are they calling me the Herald of Andraste, exactly?” _All of this seems to be a terrible joke made at her expense._ Leliana is the one who answers. “Rumor is spreading of the woman you saw in the Fade, as well as the one seen behind you when you fell out of the rift. People are claiming that woman was Andraste, herself, delivering you.” Silence hangs heavily in the air for a moment. Cullen is hesitant when he speaks. “That’s… quite the title. How do _you_ feel about it?”

Eirikia shakes her head is disbelief before meeting his gaze.”I’m unsure how I should feel. It seems a bittersweet title that will likely only bring more complications.” _Is **anyone_ * worthy of that title, let alone **me?** * Cullen tilts his head. “You’re not wrong. However, it can be something you use to our benefit.” Cassandra bounces a little at this, bringing her body forth as she inserts herself into the conversation. “We want to use your mark to try and close the Breach for good. In order to do that, we need power to match what it took to open it originally —“

All Eirikia wants in this moment is to turn and leave. Leave this room, leave this mark, and all of the nonsense that she’s seen since she awoke in that dungeon. _Yet, I can’t. This is the best place to help._ Her mind is forcing her to remember this as she interrupts Cassandra. “You want to attempt to re-create the amount of power that it took to level a mountaintop, kill hundreds of people, and **_rip a hole in the Veil_** in the hope that it _might_ be enough to close the Breach again. Do I have that right?”

They all look at each other before looking down at the table. Cassandra seems the only one brave enough to answer. “We know it is a risk, but the Breach threatens us all. We cannot sit by and do nothing.” Eirikia studies the woman for a moment. The idea _does_ have some credence, but it is also one of the most foolish things that she has ever heard. Cassandra seems so sure though, even in the face of adversity. Her bravery is what pushes Eirikia to speak. “Do have something in mind?”

The room lets out a collective breath. They _need her_ to make this work, and she has just given her unspoken agreement. Leliana glances at the others before speaking. “The rebel mages have taken up in Redcliffe, in the Hinterlands. There’s a Chantry sister who would like to speak with you, as well. She knows those in the Chantry who could help us.” Cullen’s face hardens considerably at this. “However, we could also try to find what’s left of the Templars. Rather than adding more magical energy, they could suppress it, weaken, making it easier to close.”

Eirikia gaze lingers on him for a moment while she considers his idea. Cullen, however, seems to think she’s disapproving of him again. He looks down at the table, hand clenching on the pommel of his sword. “That… is not actually a bad idea, Commander.” His gaze shoots up to her face, questioningly. “Really?” The others glance at each other before looking at her. Her gaze stays on Cullen a moment longer, her brain working through what he has proposed. He has a small, proud smile on his face that makes him look a bit younger. _Smiling suites him._

Finally, she turns her attention to the others. “I worry what damage pouring more magic into the Breach will further cause. Templars _are_ trained for this sort of… magical dilemma, as it were.” She pauses to think again for a moment. “The only issue I can foresee is if they use the mark as a catalyst, then I would be rendered useless if not killed outright. However, if our efforts draw attention as before, then having a regiment of soldiers trained against magic would be highly beneficial.”

Their faces tell her that they’re considering her words carefully. _Good. This is not a decision that should be made without careful research and consideration._ She’s happy, for a moment, about being able to give what little expertise she had. Until, that is, she glances over to Leliana. The Spymaster has the same look on her face as she did when they were outside. Eirikia is concerned for a moment that she had done something wrong, but realization came quickly. They looked at each of the others, these advisors of the Inquisition. “This is about more than the Breach, isn’t it? This is about the war. You’re arguing over choosing a side.” They glance at each other nervously, while Leliana gives her a small smile. She had been right.

She gleans courage from the other woman, her face hardening as she looks at the group. “I may be opposed to choosing a side in this war myself, however the Inquisition should tread more carefully. Your decision will affect so many. Choosing a side may further displace the hurting, push away those that may be able to help, or simply cripple your organization as a whole from its truest potential. Many of those out there are doing their best with what is left. They need your help. Innocent people need your help on _both sides_. I implore you to think this over carefully.”

The advisors look carefully at the table in front of them, clearly thinking over her words. Cassandra releases a sigh. “You… are right. We have let the immediate situation cloud our judgement for Thedas. We will discuss what you have suggested.” The others nod their agreement, Leliana now smiling brightly. Cassandra studies the map a moment. “For now, we need to prepare for our journey to the Hinterlands. I would like us to leave in a week’s time. This will allow us time to gather what we need, and give you time to prepare.” Eirikia glances at her and then the others. “What do you mean, prepare?” Cassandra looks at her with a firm expression. “You did well on the mountain, but we have no idea what we will face out there. You need armor and a staff, as well as training for battle. One would assume that you did not learn that in the Circle.”

Erika’s mouth tightens into a thin line before responding. “We learn the basics, but I concede your point. Who will be training me?” Cassandra gestures over to Cullen. “I will oversee your training. Ideally, we would also like for you to know basic hand to hand combat. As for your magical training, Solas has agreed to help you train.” She takes a deep breath before nodding in agreement.

She had wanted to seek out the Elven mage anyway, but wasn’t quite sure how much “magical training” she truly needed. Cullen, on the other hand, made a smart choice in teaching her combat skills. Hopefully, she wouldn’t scare him away too easily. _Andraste preserve me. What have I gotten into?_


	3. It'll Burn All Your Fear Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potential friends?

 

There was so much for her to think over, so much that had happened since she woke up that morning. Her meeting with the Advisors had concluded, and she felt a bit like bursting at the seams.

She walked out the Chantry doors, taking relief from the frigid Frostback Mountain air as she cleared her thoughts. She closed her eyes momentarily, leaning her head back to feel the pale sun on her face. Sighing, she opened her eyes to look at the sky. The sun was not even directly overhead, so it was yet to even be midday. _How can one’s life change so much in such a short time?_

She hears the sounds of boots behind her before halting, and then a distinctive sound of a throat being cleared. She glances over her shoulder to see Commander Cullen standing a few paces back. “Yes, Commander? Did you need me?” He takes a few cautious steps to join her. “Ah, yes. Uhm.” He clears his throat again before continuing, his hand rising to his neck. “You are probably feeling tired or, uh, perhaps overwhelmed. I’m sure this was not how you expected today to go.” She offers a weak smile, watching him for a moment. _He’s so nervous around me._ “Commander, when I awoke this morning I hadn’t the faintest idea where I even was. Since then, I’ve joined the Inquisition, become the Herald of Andraste, and agreed to place myself amidst the war.” She pauses, tilting her head to look at the man before her. “I apologize if my presence has made you… uncomfortable.”

She isn’t, not in the slightest. It was hardly her intention to be here. Yet, she wants to test him, disarm him. “You haven’t —“ She smiles warmly at him now. “Come now, Commander. The amount of times you have cleared your throat or lifted your hand to your neck would prove otherwise.” His hand had just settled on his neck as she spoke, and he quickly removes it. Instead, he places both hands on the pommel of his sword. _There you go, Commander._

He releases a hesitant laugh. “Forgive me. I was unsure what to expect from you. You were a prisoner, our only survivor, and then you were our hero, the Herald. It’s been overwhelming for all of us.” She smiles at him again. “I am sure that me being a mage did nothing to aid in this. Given that you are a Templar, after all.” She winks, letting him know she doesn’t mean this to cause an argument. He starts, his mouth pinching in before releasing a sigh. “I am… no longer a Templar.”

This surprises her, and the hesitation with which he says it lets her know he has not yet adjusted to saying it. “I… forgive me, I did not realize such a thing was possible.” He releases another heavy breath. “Typically, it is not. However, I left the Order and that life behind to join the Inquisition.” He pauses, looking at her more intently. “However, back to your original statement… you are right. I apologize.”

She waves a hand in dismissal, offering a playful smile. “No harm done, Commander. I suspect old habits die hard.” That draws a chuckle out of him, and she feels a sense of accomplishment. “You really left the Order? For this?” He nods, a smile now resting on his face. “Yes. I was in Ferelden during the Blight, and stationed in Kirkwall during the uprising. I have seen too much to not try to help restore order, in whatever way I can.”

She finds herself in awe of him. _What he is doing is truly brave._ “That is rather quite commendable, Commander.” His smile widens a fraction at her words. “Yet, for what it’s worth, I don’t dislike or distrust Templars. I meant what I said in there.” He looks at her with mild surprise before nodding. “They are often mislead or misused. Some use their role to abuse others. Yet at their core, they are still a strong defense against magic gone awry.” She nods. “I agree.”

She turns to look back at Haven, and feels him move to stand beside her. “So, Commander. What do you advise that I do now?” He turns to study her for a long moment. She continues looking out at Haven, rather than meeting his gaze. “I would recommend you get some food, Herald. Do you know the last time you ate?” _I don’t even know what day it is._

She lets out a small laugh. “No, Commander, I don’t.” She grins at him. “That is, perhaps, more practical than I would have expected. I will heed your guidance, however.” He chuckles, and points over to the tavern. “I would also suggest that you not eat in there by yourself. “ She raises a concerned eyebrow. He sighs. “The people have taken rather strongly to your title as Herald of Andraste. I would be hesitant in giving them the time or space to act on that. However, you are employed by the Inquisition now. Start a tab for yourself.” A shaky breath leaves her before she smiles at him. “I see. Thank you, Commander.” He returns her smiles as gives her a small bow before walking away.

———-

She is grateful for his warning, as it allows her time to compose herself on the walk to the tavern.

The moment she opens the door, eyes are on her. As she steps in, everything goes quiet. She keeps her head held high, smiling at those that will meet her gaze. Which, surprisingly, is almost the entire room. Walking over to the barkeep, she hears the gentle whispers start. She pushes the sound to the back of her mind as she smiles at the timid girl behind the counter. “Hello, I was wondering about acquiring some food for my midday meal?” The girl flusters, hesitant before her quiet answer. She nods, mumbling something before disappearing. Eirikia stays there, the whispers morphing into a dull rumbling, too indistinct to decipher. _Something to be grateful for, I imagine._ The skin of her back tingles with the stares fixed upon it.

It isn’t long before the barkeep appears, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl atop it. Her stomach finally comes to life as the smell of the meat and spices drifts to her. She smiles broadly at the girl when she offers the food. “Thank you, ever so much! Would you mind telling me how much this will be?” She has nothing to offer right now, of course, but she was curious nonetheless. The girl’s face turns red as she waves her arms in distress. “No, my Lady! The Herald will not pay for her meals! Do not worry!” Eirikia keeps the smile on her face, but lets a sharp breath out of her nose. “Please, I insist. Commander Cullen has advised me to start a tab under my name.” The girl shakes her head once again. “I will come by every week to pay it, whether you keep track or not. Please, be sensible.” The girl deflates a little, her shoulders slouching as she nods an agreement. Eirikia’s face brightens at her victory. “Thank you. Now, what is your name?” The girl’s head shoots up to look at her in confusion before turning an even darker shade of red. She fiddles with her hands in front of her. “It’s… Flissa, ma’am.” Eirikia gives a slight bow of her head in greeting. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Flissa. Thank you for my meal.” As she turns to leave the tavern, the eyes of every person in there follow her out.

She takes in and releases a tight breath when she feels the door close behind her. She glances down at her meal. _Where should I go?_ Theoretically, she had a perfectly fine cabin that she could return to. Picturing the empty space gives her pause, anxiety building in her chest. She didn’t yet want to give way to the darkness looming within her. So much, _too much_ had happened, and she was not yet ready to succumb to the emotions that awaited her.

She releases a huff of frustration as she lifts her head. Glancing around, she begins searching for somewhere to go. To her right, she sees a cluster of Chantry sisters huddled together. There’s an inviting fire near them, as well as Varric. She smiles at the idea, but the amount of people passing through that area give her pause. _Somewhere without unnecessary stares._ Turning to her left, she sees a small set of stairs leading to a small fenced off area. There are a number of cabins in that direction, but seemingly less people than anywhere else. An Elven man appears, walking towards one of the closer cabins. Eirikia smiles, despite herself.

 _”Solas!”_ She calls out while briskly walking towards him. He turns, brows knitted together in confusion. His eyes land on her as she reaches the top of the short steps, and he gives her a small bow in greeting. The brisk walk and the cold winter air have reddened her face, but she’s wearing a look of _almost_ genuine delight to see him. As she approaches, he looks curiously at the tray in her hands. She pauses, taking a breath. “If you aren’t terribly busy, would you mind some company? I had hoped we might discuss the Breach or the mark.” He offers a nod. “Of course.” Gesturing to the cabin behind him, he allows her to go first. Eirikia is more grateful than she can allow herself to express. The taunts of her empty cabin recede as she enters the warmth of this one. Solas walks to a small table and pulls out a chair for her before turning to retrieve one from a desk on the other side of the room. She waits for him to settle the other chair adjacent to hers before she sits.

“Thank you, Solas. Commander Cullen made the suggestion that perhaps I not eat in the tavern just yet.” His mouth moves into a thin line. “The Herald of Andraste, a blessed hero, a symbol of hope. They are now rallying behind you.” Her brow furrows. “Perhaps that is something I can live up to.” He studies her for a moment, head tilting ever slightly. “Every great war has its heroes, Herald. I wonder, if given the choice, what kind might you be?” She doesn’t answer right away, choosing instead to lift a spoonful of her stew to her mouth, only to discover it has gone cold. She cups her hands around the bowl, heating it with her magic. “Perhaps, if I _am_ able to choose, I would aspire to be the kind that looks past the glory of it all. I would not want to be an idol, something unreal and untouchable, but instead a leader that can dive into the heart of the battle being fought.”

 _Where did that come from?_ She’s said more than she meant, more than even she fully understands. Covering her frustration with herself, she lifts a spoonful of now steaming stew to her mouth. She glances over at him while chewing, still embarrassed with herself. Yet, she doesn’t find a disapproving glare or shock written across his face. Instead, she sees that his head has tilted ever more slightly and there’s a small smile on his face. _He… approves?_

She reaches for another spoonful as he begins to speak. “I have journeyed deep into the Fade, in ancient ruins and battlefields, to see the dreams that remain there as spirits try to reenact the past. Wars both famous and forgotten.” He pauses momentarily to study her. “Not all heroes were heroes for the right reasons.” Her hand shakes, nearly dropping her spoon. She covers the mishap by resting it against the inside of the bowl. She releases a small breath, anxiety and excitement warring within her as she turns to look fully at him. “That could be said about most leaders, sadly.” He nods glumly. Her eyes are shining eager and hungry. “Tell me what it’s like to dream in places with so much history. I’ve never heard of someone going so deep into the Fade, and I must admit that I am very curious.”

His head snaps back a fraction, his head cocks to the other side as his brow furrows. She almost laughs at the pure surprise and interest on his face. _Me too, friend. Me too._ “With so much death and history, spirits clamor against the Veil. I can go deep into the Fade and see memories forgotten by time.” She parts her lips as she smiles, shaking her head slightly in amazement. “That is… _extraordinary._ I would love to see such things.” She turns back to her stew, humming in her throat as she takes another bite. “Thank you. It is not a common field of study, but I find it deeply fulfilling.” She nods before swallowing. “I can only _dream_ of how much.” She grins at her own joke, winking at him. He chuckles, which makes her grin grow ever slightly.

“I… suppose I shall stay. Until the Breach is closed, at least.”

Her head snaps up in shock, a splash leaking over the side of her spoon back into the bowl below. Her eyes widen in shock and despair. “Were… were you not planning on staying to help?” Too much of her life since the Conclave has been displacement, and this _almost_ loss has her reeling. He sighs, looking at her with concern. “Herald, I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces. I need not remind _you_ of how poorly we are looked down upon.”

She clenches her jaw. The emotions that want to respond to _everything_ want to appear _now_. Swallowing, she pins him with her gaze. “Solas, I promise you, they will not hurt you. They would have to go through me first.” _That isn’t what I meant…_ She huffs, frustrated. “I have been around mages the better part of my life. Without you here, I would be at a loss and alone. I would appreciate the company, if you would have it.”

Solas regards her for a moment, and she feels like a fool. _What has come over me?_ “I… thank you, Herald.” She lifts her head, relief flooding her as she smiles at him. “Please, call me Eirikia.” He returns her smile, nodding. “Well, _Eirikia_ , you wanted to discuss the Breach, yes?”

Something unspoken and _important_ has happened here, and the registering of that makes her smile broaden. “Yes. The Advisors have some ideas about closing the Breach, but I have concerns about either option. I was hoping to get another mage’s opinion on the matter.” She looks at her bowl, pondering something for a moment before looking back at him. “I also realize that our varied experiences will perhaps mean that we disagree. I would welcome you to challenge me as you see the need.” She’s caught him off guard. A single brow rises asking an unmistakable: “Are you _sure_ you want that?”

She waves a hand to emphasize her point. “Normally, I would welcome the chance to be wrong for the sake of learning from another… but there’s more at sake here than my mind and pride. If you know of anything that could help us, please don’t hesitate to tell me.” His face stiffens for a moment before he nods in agreement. “Tell me of the ideas they have suggested.”

* * *

Eirikia is caught in mid laugh when she notices the sky outside has darkened. She had been telling him a story from her time in court. She does not often talk about her life as a noble. This, as in all things, she chooses duality over authenticity. The various masks of her life are tucked into carefully organized pockets, ready to worn should she need them. Yet, something about Solas and their conversation had drawn it out of her. She had glanced briefly to the small window behind him when she realized how much time had passed. “Oh, no! Solas, I’m _so sorry_.” She points to the window, and he turns to see. “I used up your entire day!” She’s cursing herself when he turns back to her, a smile plastered on his face. “Truthfully, Eirikia, I have not enjoyed a conversation outside of the Fade this much in… well, a longer time than I care to admit. I have enjoyed your company.”

She tentatively meets his eyes before looking back to the window. “As have I. Thank you. For now, however, I should probably seek out Commander Cullen. He intends to start my training tomorrow, I think.” When Solas smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkle, and she wonders briefly how often he lets himself smile with meaning. _How often do I?_ Her heart clenches at the sadness in that thought, and momentarily it feels like the world opens up underneath her. Solas speaks, centering her on reality again. “As it happens, he sought me out not long before you. We shall begin first thing tomorrow, so I suggest you seek out the blacksmith. You will need armor and a staff for training.”

Eirikia lets out a breath, releasing some of her tension from a moment ago. “Then I shall be going.” She pushes back her chair, rising. “I shall see you in the morning, Solas. Happy dreaming.” He rises as well, continuing to smile warmly at her. He gives her a half bow of farewell.

She feels his gaze on her as she walks to the door, and it causes unnatural heat to rise to her face. She turns the knob, slipping through into the chilly evening air.

———

She stops to drop her meal tray off at the tavern, and is taken aback by the scene inside. There’s a warm glow permeating the air around the tavern, noise overflowing whenever the door opens. Inside, she sees happy faces, drinks in hand. Varric has a table in a corner and is mid story as she enters. He raises his drink to her in greeting when he sees her.

She smiles back, laughing as she weaves her way through the people to Flissa over at the bar. Thankfully, no one seems to notice her tonight. Flissa is flirting with a man who is leaning over to counter to get closer to her. Eirikia steps beside him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Flissa. I just wanted to drop off this tray from earlier.” The girl glares at her for a moment before swiping the tray from her hands, bowl and spoon clattering. She sets it on the bar before giggling at the man again. Eirikia raises her eyebrows, laughing, before walking away.

She’s outside and a good distance away from the tavern before she realizes she has no idea where she’s going. She stops, looking around, and is grateful to see Elaine not far from her. She rushes over. _“Elaine!”_ The poor girl _flinches_ , dropping a basket that she had been carrying. Eirikia leans down gracefully to grab it, handing it back to her. “Th…Thank you, my Lady. Did you… did you need me?” Her hands tighten and worry the handle of the basket. “Yes, da’len. I need to see the blacksmith, but I realized I don’t know where anything in Haven is.”

The girl looks at her, blinking slowly. “Would… would you like me to show you where Master Harritt is, my Lady?” Eirikia shakes her head. “You are obviously busy. If you would tell me how to get there, that should suffice.” Elaine turns slightly, pointing to a large set of double doors. “If you go through the gates, my Lady, you can turn and see smithy area not far down the way.” Eirikia takes note, nodding. “Thank you, Elaine. And where is my cabin again?” Elaine turns behind them, pointing to a cabin in the direct center of a group of other cabins. Eirikia turns to Elaine, smiling. “Thank you so very much, da’len.”

She turns, heading towards the gates when Elaine calls out. “My Lady? Is there anything you need this evening before I finish up?” Eirikia turns back to her, thinking for a moment. “If you would, I’d appreciate a pail of water. I don’t know how long I’ll be at the blacksmith, so don’t bother with heating it.” Elaine’s faces pinches in on itself. “Are you sure, my Lady?” Eirikia laughs. Holding up her hand, she wiggles her fingers, letting them glow like embers. Elaine gasps, a hand shooting up to her mouth. “Pa…pardon me, my Lady. I’m not used to being around ma…mages. I didn’t mean to offend.” Eirikia waves her hand, dismissing the comment. “You did nothing to offend, dear one.” The girl nods, bowing. “There is one other thing, da’len. I am to begin training in the morning. Would it be possible to have some tea sent to my cabin beforehand?” The girl nods again. “I will bring it myself, ma’am.” Eirikia smiles warmly at the Elven girl. “Thank you. Now, I must be going.” She nods to Elaine before turning to head in the direction of the gates.

Outside the gates, she is grateful to immediately hear the low rumble of the blacksmith. Looking around, she finds it not far, illuminated by the soft glow of the forge. Afraid that it is becoming too late in the day, she walks swiftly over. There’s a man standing, overseeing the others and barking orders. Assuming that is the man she needs, she walks over to his side. “Hello. Are you Master Harritt? The blacksmith?” The man turns, his arms still crossed at his chest while he studies her for a moment. “Expected you’d be by. Ay, I’m Harritt.” Relieved to still find him here, she smiles warmly. “A pleasure to meet you. My name is Eirikia Trevelyan. Commander Cullen would like for me to start trying in the morning, but I’m afraid I don’t have armor or a staff to use.”

He eyes her for a moment, his brows furrowing. “You a mage then?” Her smile falters slightly. “I am.” He continues studying her. “Do ya have a staff preference?” She isn’t sure if he disapproves of her or if this is just his way. “I would prefer a fire staff, if possible.” His eyes shoot up to her fiery locks before a barely visible smile appears. “Alright. Come by in tha mornin’ before you head to the training yard. I’ll have your equipment ready then.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Do… you not need measure me?” He shakes his head. “The Lady Ambassador had someone do that while you were out cold as not to bother you.” Now both of her eyebrows are raised, but it does make this far simpler. “Well then, thank you. Good evening, Master Harritt.”

The last traces of dusk have been erased by the time she turns to walk back to her cabin. It is the first time today that she has had a moment to herself, without agenda, and she finds that peace comforting. The frigid Frostback air whips at her cheeks, and she finds herself smiling. The air is refreshing, centering, and brings forth clarity amidst so much uncertainty.

She’s nearing the door to her cabin when the anxiety starts to creep back in. A part of her is relived to have a place to be alone, but the rest of her is afraid of what will unearth itself here. She sighs, shaking her head as if she could force the thoughts away.

Elaine has already been here. The cabin is all aglow and warm from the fireplace, which amuses her. _Perhaps I will spare her the knowledge that I could have done all of that with but a thought._ There’s a small plate of bread and cheese, and that humbles her. _No sneaking into the kitchens._ Which, was mostly just a rite of passage for Circle mages, as Eirikia did not eat as often as she should. Still, she is grateful for the kindness. She sees the pail of water at the foot of her bed, and she walks over to it. Bending, she draws a fire glyph on the side of the pail. Allowing it to heat, she strips off the borrowed clothes she wears. She finds a wash rag and a sleeping tunic across her bed. Taking the rag, she dips into the now steaming water. She sighs deeply, wishing she could shrink her body and bathe in the pail.

While she cleans herself, she allows her mind to roll naturally over the events of the day. There is much to think about, and her mind jumps from thought to thought. Even so, it keeps coming back to Solas. She found herself intrigued by him, admiring his mind and knowledge. There was something underneath, things he was holding close to his chest. She recognizes it easily from spending her life doing the same, and she wonders if perhaps this was a warning or a blessing. Regardless, she finds herself grateful for his presence here and hopeful at the possibility of a friend.

She finishes, and dries herself with a wave of her hand. Her magic tingles on her skin for a moment before fading away. She slides into the cotton tunic and then into her bed. Exhaustion plays at the edge of her mind, but her attention is still too sharp on all that has occurred. Sighing, she raises a hand to her forehead to cast a sleeping spell. She would not be adding “sleeplessness” to her current list of concerns.


	4. What A Wicked Game To Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins. In more ways than one.

 

Eirikia awoke the next morning to Elaine bringing the tea she had requested. She smiles. “Goooood morning, Elaine,” she says happily as she stretches.

The girl, still unaccustomed to anyone knowing her name or making conversation with her, fumbles a bit with the tea pot. Recovering quickly, she greets her in return. “Good morning, my Lady. Did you sleep well?”

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Eirikia begins stretching her neck and arms. “I did, actually. Thank you for asking.” She smiles brightly at Elaine as she rises to walk to the table. “Would you care to join me, da’len?”

Elaine’s face turns red. She wrings her hands nervously as she replies, “No, my Lady, I cannot!” Eirikia tilts her head in confusion. “Why ever not?” Elaine looks around her a bit helplessly before finally glancing back to her mistress. “I… I would be shirking my other duties if I joined you, ma’am.” _Ah, yes. Of course._ Eirikia suddenly becomes very interested in the floor as she rubs her toes against it. “I… I see. Of course.” Seeing that her response has upset her, Elaine adds, “I am truly sorry, my Lady. Perhaps another day?

Eirikia’s head bounces up in delight. “We can set up a time when it won’t get in the way of your duties!” She rushes over to take the small elf’s hands in her own. “Thank you, dear one,” she says as she squeezes her hands once before letting them go. She smiles brightly at Elaine, who is blushing and wringing her hands once again. “Would… would you like some fresh water for today, my Lady?”

Eirikia hums to herself for a moment as she thinks. “Perhaps this evening. I am unsure what Commander Cullen and Solas have in store for me.” Elaine nods to her mistress before saying, “Then I will have some ready upon your return. I hope you have a good day, my Lady.” She gives Eirikia a bow before rushing out the door.

The interaction leaves Eirikia with a smile on her face but a pang in her chest. Sighing to herself, she pours a cup of tea. This is how it has always been, truthfully, but she always wants to try. Always hopes for the best, even if history is doomed to repeat itself. She takes a sip of tea, hoping to shake the melancholy.

She is of noble birth. Second child to the noble house Trevelyan in the Free Marches. Her eldest sister, the first born, was always being tutored and manicured for the life waiting for her. Court life was not something Eirikia was unfamiliar with, of course, but it had separated her from her sister who was thrust into the life of performance even more so than she had been. Her younger siblings, however, had each other. Twins, boy and girl, destined to be the best of friends. That, paired with the 7 year age gap between herself and their birth, made it unlikely they would ever be more than siblings. She had tried, more than once, to befriend a serving girl assigned to her. They always acted similarly to Elaine’s behavior, rushing away in fear of a ruse or some misfortune befalling them. The Circle had been… better, though only somewhat. Her title gave her power and protection in a place where mages often did not feel protected. She quickly found that if she wanted friends, or more rather the _idea_ of friends, she had to help the Circle be better than it was when she had arrived.

Usually, this meant she flippantly used her power and influence. She hated it, at first, hated the taste it left in her mouth, but over time it became… thrilling. A newcomer may have something about them that was “unsavory” in the eyes of the petty girls that clung to her. Eirikia would simply seek out that person, offering them a seat beside her as they studied. When the same girls saw them, Eirikia would offer her best smile and ask politely if they had met her new friend. Henceforth, the newcomer was safe, and able to become whatever they intended to be. Only clinging to her protection for as long as it took for them to feel secure in themselves. Eirikia didn’t mind this, not terribly. She was always proud of them, even has her heart ached when she couldn’t make them stay.

The closest thing she had to a true friend, she supposed, was her cousin, Theia. Theia, however, had the misfortune of being raised in a household that did not cherish her. Over the years, it became a bit like watching a flower wilt, until she finally left home for Ostwick Circle. She was relieved for her cousin’s sake that she was able to leave a home that was not kind to her. When Eirikia finally arrived at the Circle herself, Theia already had a group of friends that she was fiercely protective of. Not wanting to play the baby cousin, Eirikia simply let her be. They occasionally talked or spent time together, as infrequent as it was. Theia was the only one over the years to say, “You are aware they’re just using you, right?” That honesty was so important to her amidst a world of vultures, picking at whatever bits of her they could grab.

Shaking her head, she lifts her cup only to find her tea has gone cold. Sighing, she heats it to lukewarm only to drink it in one swig. Pouring another, freshly hot cup, she takes a long drink to savor it. She can’t remember the last time she has done this, sometime before the Conclave certainly, but she wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed. This small ritual helped to center her, move her seamlessly from a night spent in the Fade into the world of the waking. This is the first chance she’s had to sit and process all that has happened. She is still unsure of her place within the Inquisition or that of being the “Herald”. She furrows her brow at the thought, taking another sip. What right did _anyone_ have to claim they were the Herald of Andraste, much less _her_. She was afraid, perhaps more so than she could comprehend, about the consequences of this title both for the organization and for herself.

Her mind wanders to the Conclave, of all the dead and burning bodies that she saw outside the Temple. Her eyes want to fill with tears, but something in her won’t let that happen. It feels so distant, so unfathomable for there to even have been an event so truly staggering in losses. Her mind cannot wrap around, is afraid to try. Past that, past the unimaginable is a small place where she remembers that she was there. She could have, should have, died just as easily as everyone else. She tries to imagine the people she had seen present before everything went blank. She focuses on the faces as hard as she can, wanting to remember them. She can’t, and that leaves her finally feeling the weight of what was lost perhaps more than anything else. That she had seen these people, been around them, spoke with them, _engaged_ them as best as she could and was unable to remember a single one.

A sob escapes her. A broken, mangled sound that her ears are unaccustomed to hearing. She places her elbows on her knees, breaking years of disciplined posture as the tears start to fall. She doesn’t remember the last time she cried freely, thinking herself beyond that. Yet, what else could she offer all of those lost souls? What else did she have to give in this moment other than her grief?

A few minutes pass before the tears halt. The relief those moments left her with makes a pang of guilt rise in her gut. She pours another cup of tea, warming it quickly with her magic, and chokes down a large sip. It leaves her feeling more oriented than she had been, and able to focus on the tasks at hand. She quickly washes herself, paying extra attention to her face as she tries to cover the evidence of her crying. Gathering her long crimson locks in her hands, she bunches it together at the base of her head, only to realize that she doesn’t have her usual tie. She pulls the tie off her night shirt instead. With one hand and her teeth, she fashions it into something that is usable and styles her hair into something of a bun. Sighing, she reaches for the oversized clothes they had provided for her. While dressing, she remembers the armor waiting for her and rushes to finish her task. _With any luck, it will actually fit me._

Leaving her cabin, she lets herself wonder about her upcoming training. She’s amused at the idea, mostly because the Circles are required to prepare mages for battle, lest they be called upon to serve. Each Circle varies, depending upon its locations and overall teachings. Ostwick had been neutral on this, as with so many other things. She knew more than a common Circle mage, of that she was sure, but perhaps less than a specialized Battlemage. She had picked up… _other skills_ throughout the years that would hopefully give her an advantage as well. She wonders what kind of fighting they might encounter when they travel to the Hinterlands, making note to seek out Sister Leliana to ask.

As she walks the short distance from her cabin to the gate, she tries to engage the villagers and workers she passes. Most look away quickly, but few seem embolden to continue looking at her. To those she smiles, making eye contact that leaves them looking unsure. This is yet another thing that leaves her sighing to herself as she slips through the gates of Haven.

When she had come this way the evening before, the area had mostly been in darkness. There were enough torches mounted on the gate’s framing that allowed her to see the area Elaine had directed her to. Now, however, she was able to fully take in the view in front of her. It was early enough that there was still fog wafting over the snow covered ground, but she could still see. To her right, she could make out what she assumed was the training yard flanked by a number of tents. At the head of the cluster was Cullen, already out and looking over a stack of parchment. His armor was on the ground beside him, leaving him in a casual tunic and breeches. Presumably, he was just finishing a training routine of his own. She makes her way left, towards the makeshift blacksmith area. There was a small fenced in yard next to the blacksmith that looked as if it should be holding something, but for the moment was completely empty. Passing it, she noted the faint smell of horse manure and feed. Puzzled, she turned into breach in the fence that served as an entryway for the blacksmith.

It was an odd area, as it was truly an overhanging attached to a cabin. She wondered if there was risk of fire in this poorly suited environment, but she supposed it was the best they had. Upon entering, she saw Harritt standing in the back, already at work. As she approached, he glanced up at her. “Good. You’re here. Here’s the staff for ya.” He made a final swipe on the staff he was holding before he passed it to her. The staff itself was a simple design, but the top had smaller curved pieces that held a white ornament atop it. “Harritt, it’s beautiful!” She smiled at the man who was watching her. “Aye. It’s not done yet. When you finish training, bring it back and I’ll attach a blade to the end. For now though, we don’t need extra wounded.” She nods to show that she heard him, but her attention was on her new staff. Her fingers trace it gently, feeling her magic connect and synchronize to it. “Now for yer armor.” Harritt turns, reaching for a wrapped bundle atop a nearby box. He hands it to her and crosses his arms over his chest to observe. She gently sets her staff down, leaning it against some of the forge equipment. Glancing at him, she then hesitantly unwraps the bundle in her hands. She sees a sliver of a pale blue leather that makes her gasp audibly. Unfolding the rest of covering, she can see the top of her carefully crafted and folded armor. It’s made of a pale blue, lined with ivory silk in the hood and collar. She fingers it gently, lifting up a buttoned hem to feel it. Harritt asks, “Do ya like tha color?” She’s still transfixed by the beautiful armor, but she whispers, “Oh yes.”

“Thought it might look nice with yer hair.” She glances up to see him with a barely visible grin. She offers him a bright one in return. He then lists the extras he has included with her armor and how to attach them. She nods and smiles as he explains everything, feeling a true overwhelming joy. When he finishes his instructions, she asks, “Thank you, Harritt. Truly. What do I owe you for all of this?” She didn’t have anything to pay him with at the moment, but Cullen had mentioned that she was employed by the Inquisition now. She intended to pay this man back in kind for all that he had given her. “Aw, ya don’t owe me nothin, Herald. It’s my duty to arm this Inquisition, and you especially. Nothin’ will hurt ya so long as I can help it.” She gapes at the man for a moment, too overcome with shock and emotion to try speaking. Before she can get her wits about her, he says, “I have one more thing, my Lady.” He reaches behind his back, and pulls out an object the length of her forearm. He unsheathes it, displaying a flawless and beautiful dagger. “I know ya have your magic, and that’s well and good. But there’s a lot out there that we ain’t figured out yet. I want ya to always be safe.” He sheathes the dagger, handing it to her. She’s at a loss for words. Carefully balancing the bundle in her arms, she takes the dagger he offers her. It’s design is much like the staff he made for her, equal in both its beauty and simplicity. He interrupts her thoughts by explaining and showing her the place on her armor where she can attach it. “Don’t go usin’ it at practice unless the Commander asks you to, but I want you to carry it otherwise, ya hear?” She thanks him warmly, offering the biggest smile her face will allow, before turning to leave. She tries to act natural, which fails somewhere between the blacksmith and the gate. A small squeal of delight escapes her, and she runs the rest of the way to the gate.

————-

It’s past dawn when Solas arrives at the training grounds. As he approaches, he sees only the form of an unarmored Commander Cullen, head bent over a stack of parchment. He had not specified a time with Eirikia the night before, and he wonders now if that was a mistake. Stepping up next to the man, he says, “Good morning, Commander. I see you are the only one training. I had hoped Eirikia might have joined us.” The man makes a small sound as if something were caught in his throat. He brings his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat, before turning to Solas with a smirk. “I’m afraid you just missed her.” Solas raises a questioning eyebrow in response. “She was out here a moment ago, I presume to pick up her equipment from Harritt.” His smirk turns into a full smile as he continues, “But halfway to the gate, she _squealed_ and began running in a joyful glee the rest of the way back.” He could not help the small smile of amusement he wore as he tried to picture it. Letting out a small chuckle he says, “Hopefully she will take to training as joyfully.”

Cullen snorts before saying, “Somehow I doubt that.” Solas lets out another chuckle. “How would you like this training to proceed, Commander?” Cullen looks up from his parchment to think. Turning to the Elven man, he says, “We know she’s skilled. We both saw her fight on the mountain. My main concern is how _battle ready_ she is.” Solas nods in agreement. “How do you propose we test her?” Cullen moves his fist up to rest under his chin. It gives the air that his response is more of him thinking out loud rather than actively engaging in conversation. “I was thinking of having you provoke her on varying levels. We’ll see how she responds, and that may give us a better idea of her strengths and weaknesses.” He pauses here, his brows pinching together. “Past that, you are better equipped to teach her. Today is mostly about evaluating what she needs to learn. After that, I want to teach her simple hand to hand combat basics. Just in case.”

Solas nods, agreeing. He begins thinking over what he knows of her magic, trying to decide to best ways of testing her. The two men fall into a comfortable silence as they prepare for the training session.

————

A few minutes pass before Eirikia peeks her head out of the gates. Seeing Solas and the Commander standing together, she moves to greet them. She’s grinning broadly as she approaches them, dressed her new armor and carrying her staff. Obviously, she is thrilled with her new items, making her face shine like the sun itself.

She walks down the steps at the gate, and Solas is moved by how otherworldly she looks. In the pale morning light, the fog wafting around them, she looks like something beyond this place and time. The muted colors of their surroundings, paired with the pale blue of the leather she wears, makes the hues of her fiery red hair and bright blue eyes stand vivid in contrast. She’s pulled her hair back behind her head, but a few loose curls frame her face. The closer she gets, the more defined her features become. Her bright and brilliant smile, porcelain skin dusted with freckles across her nose, the constant look in her eyes that makes of one knowing too many things and playing them all for fools.

She’s nearly standing in front of them before he remembers himself. Leaning against his staff, he straightens to his full height. She’s still beaming with pride and delight when she finally stops before them. He nods to her in greeting. “Good morning, Eirikia. From what I understand, you’ve had good morning thus far.” Her eyebrows raise a bit in confusion, but she’s still smiling. “I have, indeed, Solas, but how…?” A small chuckle escapes Cullen. “Forgive me, Herald. I saw you earlier when you were… _eager_ to get back to your cabin.” A smile spreads across the man’s face as he imagines it again. Eirikia stares at him for a moment, while a rose shade blooms across her cheeks. Her face transforms into a coy smile, as she reaches behind her. Brandishing a dagger, she twirls it a moment in her hand. Looking to Cullen, she says, “Harritt also gave me this to defend myself. Tell me, Commander, do you think I have a use for it today?”

Cullen goes stark still before sighing. “No, my Lady. I apologize.” She flashes him a smile as she puts the dagger away. “Apology accepted, Commander. Now, let us get on to the training.” Cullen nods at her, before leading them both around the side of the tents into a more open area. Rubbing his neck, he points to where he would like them both to stand. Satisfied, he says, “Herald, the point of today’s exercises is to determine how battle ready you are. Once we get an idea of your level of preparation, we will move into specifics. Solas will be doing any tutoring you need with magic, as I’m sure you already deduced. After that, we will move on to basic combat skills.” He looks over to Solas. The Elven man says, “Today I will be discerning your mana and magic use, while Commander Cullen will be judging your formation and movements.” He glances at the other man, who nods his compliance. Cullen then looks to Eirikia with a smirk on his face. “Most enemies will not back down at the flash of a dagger and the hint of a threat, Herald.” She scoffs at him. “Who said I was hinting, Commander?” She winks at him, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance. “Yes, well, for now let’s just use magic. When you’re ready, Solas.”

Eirikia had set her staff down while they had been conversing. He finds himself interested to see how well she does without it. He shoots a small burst of frost in her direction. Glancing at it, she waves a fire coated hand casually melting it. Looking at him, she raises an eyebrow. _A challenge. She is issuing a challenge._ He’s mouth moves into a small smirk as he releases a barrage of energy from his staff. Multiple projectiles of frost race towards her. She leans on her back leg, one hand tucked into her chest, as she examines the nails on her other. The projectiles hit a barrier he had not seen her cast, bouncing off to fizzle into the fog. She glances up at him, her smile saying that she is very proud of herself. He lets out a small sigh, adjusting his stance before trying again. This time he creates a single burst of lightning to appear over her head. She moves swiftly, repelling it with a wave of fire. While her focus is drawn upwards, he creates a glyph underneath her that activates automatically. The freeze lasts only a moment as it reacts to the fire armor she has once again cast without him noticing. He raises a skeptic eyebrow to her. “You seem so sure of yourself, _Da’len_. Did the Circle truly teach you so much?” Her gaze is on him in an instant, narrowing darkly. “Perhaps you underestimate me, _Hahren_.” Her response surprises him, momentarily throwing him off guard. Most humans do not deign to learn even common phrases in Elven, but she was clever enough to see him taunting her. She smiles, seeing his confusion. “As Commander Cullen here can attest to, Circle mages are required to know basic combat magic on the off chance we are needed in battle.” Cullen clears his throat, looking from her to Solas. “That _is_ true…” He looks over to Eirikia a moment before continuing. “However, it does depend greatly upon the Circle. Battle magic is not commonly taught.” She scowls at him, while he continues studying her. He seems as unable to know what to expect of her as Solas.

Solas appraises her for a moment more. “Pick up your staff.” She looks back to him, appraising him in return. “I don’t have a need for it yet.” He narrows his eyes at her. “If you continue to use your hands, you will exert an enormous amount of mana for the sheer purpose of _looking flashy_. Pick up your staff.” She levels him with her gaze, but does not argue. She picks her staff up off the ground, only to wave her hand to cast another barrier. He senses that she is going to try an attack, so he watches her carefully. She winks, tapping her staff on the ground once. He tilts his head slightly in curiosity before he feels the ground rumbling. He casts a barrier over himself as the tremors of the earthquake intensify. He attempts to remain steady, but sees her thrust her own barrage of energy at him. His barrier is still strong enough to dispel the attack, but she uses that distraction to set a trio of fire glyphs under his feet. He catches a glimpse of them with enough time to fade step out of the way as they explode. He turns back to her, his shock radiating out of him. She smiles broadly. “Thu is ma' mana mala, hahren?” _How is my mana now, hahren?_

He’s agitated with himself for underestimating her, curious with how easily she was able to surprise him. He has more questions than he has answers, and he feels pressed to discover them. He takes a step toward her, casting Pull of the Abyss just behind her. It knocks her to the ground, dragging her towards its epicenter. She still appears in control, lifting a fist and jerking it down swiftly. It causes a similar force spell behind him, knocking him down to the ground. Her spell was not nearly as powerful as his, however, and he is able to recover quickly. Rising, he fade steps until he’s directly in front of her. She’s risen to one knee, but is at an obvious disadvantage. He waves his hand, casting an inverted barrier, effectively locking her in an airtight bubble. Her eyes flash, gaze locking in on him. With his other hand, he makes a fist, removing the air inside it. Her eyes widen, feeling the change in the air pressure. Cullen is still watching, but to a non-mage this threat is invisible. He doesn’t notice anything until Erika’s hands move to her chest a moment later. Cullen steps closer, unsure. “Solas…” Eirikia’s beautiful face starts to match the color of her hair, and Cullen’s tone begins to match his title. “Solas, stop this.” He looks at her for another moment. Her stubbornness starts to give way to pleading, and he releases her. She gasps for air, both knees sinking back to the ground.

Gently, he crouches in front of her. One of her hands is bracing her on the ground, while the other is still clutching her chest. Her eyes look up at him, angry and unsure. “You have been trained well, Da’len.” He’s speaking softly, no trace of mockery this time. “Your weakness will not come from a lack of knowledge.” Standing, he turns to Cullen, who sighs deeply. “As much as I disagree with his… _methods_ of teaching you this, he is not wrong. You are skilled, Herald, but you are also far too sure of yourself.” He fidgets for a moment, unsure of what else to say. Solas offers Eirikia a hand, which she looks at questioningly before begrudgingly accepting. Now standing, she brushes herself off, looking at both of them with something unreadable in her eyes. Anger, probably, but also perhaps humility and embarrassment. This is not how he would have liked to teach her this lesson. Yet, given the time restraints and her level of stubbornness, there was little he could do. He feels the guilt already rising in him.

She lets out a low sigh, and tilts her head to look at them as if she’s afraid of what will come next. “What else do you have to teach me?” Cullen looks at Solas, who gestures for him to go next. Looking at her squarely, he says, “Now you will be learning from me.” She appraises him for a moment before straightening her posture. “Alright, Commander. Make a solider out of me.” She looks tired, frustrated, unsure, and yet still _willing to learn_. Solas takes note of this, admiring her more for it. Cullen sets down his parchment, moving to stand beside Solas in front of her. Looking to the Elven man, he asks, “Would you care to observe, Solas? You can watch her form as I did before.” Solas nods to him, moving to the sideline of the training yard.

They remain there until the recruits show up some time later. It’s been a few hours, at least, and Eirikia seems only slightly worse for wear. She readily concentrates on the lessons Cullen tries to teach her, aiming to perfect them on the first try. Surprisingly, she normally does. Still used to using her magic as a first response, there are a few near mishaps. A punch thrown into Cullen’s palm might be on fire until the last moment, or a training tackle used to knock her down might meet a barrier. It was expected, and neither the Commander nor Solas could fault her for that. The purpose was not to have her give up her magic, but rather be able to use it all together. Solas merely observes from the side, calling out occasionally with suggestions or a change of perspective. Mostly, he watches her curiously. She is _not_ what he would have expected, not by far. She intriguing and challenging, while still being graceful and charming in everything she does.

Eventually, Cullen must resume with training the soldiers. Even as he moves to put on his armor, he’s explaining a technique she has asked him about. He pauses to look at her fully, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You _are_ doing well, Herald. Truly.” He gives her a stern look, which makes her huff at him. “Oh _fine_. If you say so.” He laughs, and returns to his task. “Why don’t you watch the soldiers for a bit, and then I’ll pair you with someone?” She bites her lip, watching the soldiers. “Is that… wise? I’ve barely begun, and I wouldn’t want to make any of them uncomfortable with a slip of my magic.” Cullen turns to her again while he fastens the straps on his chest piece. “It would be good for them, I think, to practice with a mage. Especially one that _doesn’t_ want them dead.” She lets out a small laugh and agrees.

He directs her to a place nearby where she can watch without getting in the way. The calculation on her face is almost immediate as she moves into place, studying and watching. Solas walks to stand beside her, and can almost visualize the notes she’s taking as she watches the recruits. They stand in silence for a few moments before he speaks. “You really are doing quite well.” She glances up at him, her mind still obviously on the task at hand. “I’m a quick learner.” Her attention is drawn back to the soldiers when one gets knocked down by a shield bash. He can she her mind working, looking for the flaws that lead to this result. He wants to leave her be, walk away so they both can go about their day. _Yet, he can’t._

“Eirikia, about what happened earlier…” Her eyes are on him now, calculating and sharp. She holds up a hand, halting him. “Please, don’t, Solas. You were right.” He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t interrupt. “I got cocky. Too full of myself. Too certain. You both were right in saying that is how mistakes get made. Please, don’t apologize for that.” He searches her face for a moment. It’s stoic and stern, yet there’s a sincerity there underneath it all. He can see that she’s upset with herself, not him. For one moment, Eirikia Trevelyan was not perfect. He can sense that was tormenting her more than she was letting show. He meets her gaze, unflinching. “I am not apologizing for doing it, Eirikia. I apologize that it was needed.”

He watches a moment more as she processes his words. He sees her swallow, sees the pink rise on her neck and cheeks, sees her blink a few too many times, and then she lets out a sigh. She turns back to the soldiers, crossing her arms at her chest. For a moment, he thinks the conversation is over. He turns to walk away before she says, “Will we continue to train?” Her eyes never veer from the soldiers before her. He lets a small smile ghost his face. “If you would like, yes.” She doesn’t answer right away. He feels as though he’s asking for something different, something important, but he can’t decipher what it is. “I would.” She glances at him, and he knows he has received whatever it is he truly asked for. “Then I shall see you in the morning.”

——————————

Eirikia opens the door to her cabin that night to see total darkness. She pinches her brows together, unsure of what this could mean. She glances behind her for a moment, before taking a hesitant step inside. She closes the door as silently as possible, still wary. It didn’t seem like Elaine would do this, or allow it to happen, which tells her this was recent. She takes two quiet steps forward before she notices the smell lingering in the cabin. She pauses. The air smells of the woods, heavy and earthy. There was something beyond that, something sharp like freshly ground herbs. She tilts her head, smelling something subtle and soft. She smiles, calling out into the darkness. “Hello, Solas.”

With a flick of her wrist, the cabin is full of light again. The Elven man is leaning against her desk with his arms crossed. He tilts his head at her as his eyebrows raise slightly. “How did you know?” She walks to the trunk next to her bed and begins removing the additions to her armor. Slipping her gloves off, she says, “Oh, I don’t know. Luck, perhaps.” She hears him leave his place at the desk as she begins removing her equipment belt. “Wouldn’t it have been embarrassing if it had been someone else?” She flashes him a smile as she turns to fully face him.

“I do not think it was merely luck.” He takes a few steps closer, studying her as he approaches. She looks at her nails. She’s amused, but doesn’t want to show it. “Is that so?” He looks at the fireplace she has just lit, obviously trying to decide the best way to say whatever he has come here for. “I have watched you, Eirikia. Both while we are fighting and when you believe no one else to be watching.” She tilts her head, ever slightly, unsure of where this is going. “You are a mage of considerable talent, as well as being a woman of great ingenuity. You let it show today, only because you felt you were being _outdone_. I sense that is something you do not take lightly.” He pauses, watching for a reaction. She remains quiet and curious. “Yet, you are content to let them believe otherwise. I also suspect that while you publicly agree to being the Herald, you actually find it rather _distasteful_.”

She stays quiet a moment more out of shock. There were a number of things she might expect to be said by a man she found waiting in her bedroom, but _this_ was not among them. Perhaps she should feel threatened or vulnerable, but she doesn’t. More than anything, she feels _excitement_ that someone could recognize the game that she plays. She wonders, briefly, about his motives here. Amused and intrigued, she says, “You and I are both aware of how poorly a mage would be received as the Herald Of Andraste if I did not agree to whatever puffed up skirts they put me in.” _Let us see if you can play, too._

He studies her, searching for something before he answers. “Hm. Perhaps. And yet, you still hide vital pieces of yourself away from anyone that would look too close. Why is that?” She clasps her hands behind her back, and closes the distance between them in two steps. Looking up into his face, she says, “ _I am not theirs to know._ ” He holds her gaze, seeming to accept her challenge. “I see. Well then, let me excuse myself so that you may get your evening rest.” He takes a step backwards, bowing slightly. “Sleep well, Eirikia.”

As the door closes behind him, she gives in to the small smile that she had been holding back. It was unexpected to play the game with someone who _knew the rules_.

Perhaps this will not be the last time they played.


	5. May You Stay Here, Happy In Your Own Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas learns a secret about Eirikia.

When Solas lies down to dream that night, he has a sole purpose in mind: finding Eirikia.

He is not proud of this, to be sure. Yet, there’s something about her that is more than it seems, and he is determined to figure out _what it is._

He has never met another human like her, in the Fade or otherwise, and that leaves him unsettled. It has pushed him and his curiosity to succumb to this.

He finds her quickly, without much searching. _Odd, but certainly helpful to not spend the entire night searching._ He finds her in what appears to be an overgrown courtyard. The area is covered in fog, barely alight. It reminds him of the fog from that morning, the darkness of dawn attempting to pierce through. Eirikia is sitting with her back to him, directly on the stones of a pavilion. Stone arches line the area, except the one in which she sits. He hovers in the background of the scene, observing. She sits perfectly still, her long red curls hanging at her back, barely brushing the ground. _What is she doing?_ Movement outside the courtyard catches his eyes. He’s surprised when he discovers a pair of spirits, hovering and watching her just as he is.

_”Hello, Solas.”_

Her voice catches him by surprise, and he mumbles a curse. He turns his gaze back to her, only to see she has not moved. He quirks his head, folding his hands behind his back as he walks over to her. He hovers, for just a moment, near her back. _How can she be so certain it is me?_ He walks around to face her. Her legs are folded underneath her, hands resting on her knees, and her eyes closed. _She’s meditating. She has yet to even see me._ A proud and amused smirk plays across her face, and she opens one eye. “Would you like to know my secret?” He glances over her a second time, searching for a visible giveaway. “As you have done this trick twice now, I would _indeed_ like to know.” He sees her close her eye again, content to continue her meditation. She’s wearing a cotton tunic, presumably for sleeping. The tie at the front is missing, exposing her collarbones. The tunic itself is not very long, and paired with her posture, much of her long porcelain legs are visible. He suddenly forces himself to look away, feeling guilt flood him for intruding on her private moment.

“I can smell magic.” That brings his attention back to her face. _Surely, she is joking._ “Pardon?” She smiles again, amused with this game. “Every person’s magic has a distinct smell. It allows me to tell them apart.” He tilts his head, watching her face carefully. He assumes at any moment she will confess that this is, in fact, a joke. “Is that so? Then tell me, Eirikia, what does my magic _smell_ like? Her faces pinches together, concentrating. Then she _sniffs_. “The woods, dark and earthy. Like moss in a covered forest.” He stiffens as she smells the air again. “There’s a sharp smell of fresh herbs, as if you were grounding them for a poultice.” Then she smiles brightly, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “And the Fade. That is how I always know it is you.”

The air leaves him for a moment. He blinks once, twice, _slowly_. Her face is nearly glowing with humor and happiness, and that further disorients him. His gaze moves to the spirits still hovering outside the courtyard, and then over the courtyard itself, before finally coming back to her. His chest feels tight as he releases a breath. _”You are a Dreamer.”_

It feels as if the Fade itself is playing a joke on him, _so unreal_. Then suddenly, Eirikia starts laughing. His face tightens, brows furrowing. Her laughter is soft, childlike. She looks up at him with eyes full of tears, threatening to overflow. “I… I have never been able to tell anyone.” The air leaves his chest again. He watches as she swallows, a few tears loosening from her eyes. “In the Circle, something this rare is seen as a threat. I would have been made Tranquil.” He walks over to where she is, and moves to sit down beside her. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Eirikia.” The words feel too small for what she has offered, but he says them nonetheless. She smiles brightly at him, a few fresh tear tracks appear on her face. “Before I met you, I had not met another so openly interested in the Fade. I had spent my entire life learning or researching in secret.” He studies her, still feeling wholly unworthy of this moment. “Were there many resources on the Fade within the Circle?” She shakes her head, looking off into the fog. “No. Nothing more than the basics. Requesting more would have painted a target on my back, regardless of my status.”

He remembers the spirits he noticed earlier, watching her with curiosity. “You learned from spirits, then?” She does not turn back to him, but he sees her cheeks move into a smile. “Yes. They have taught me a great deal over the years.” A thought occurs to him. “Among those things, perchance, did they teach you Elven?” She wears a playful smile when she turns to him. “Vin, ma’ni.” _Yes, my friend._ Formal, acquaintances instead of the informal for close friends. His chest tightens again. “Na nuva athlan em falon, Eirikia, sul min.” _You may call me close friend, Eirikia, for the offering of this gift._ Her smile falters. She studies him for a moment before looking away. He sees her eyes close, fresh tears falling. He gives her a moment before he speaks again. “Where are we?”

She lifts her head, looking around. Her brows are pinched. “Ah, I wanted to speak to you about that. When you learned the truth.” She sighs. “I cannot alter the Fade. Not like a true Dreamer. The spirits have told me that is has become increasingly rare for there to be human Dreamers. I seem to only be a halfling, of sorts. I can be fully conscious here, learn and study as in the waking world. Yet, I cannot shape anything.” His brow furrows. “I found this place as a child, and have since come here daily to meditate or learn. Wherever this place is, it is my Home.” He looks out again at the pavilion and courtyard beyond. “Eirikia, I do not believe that you found this place. You needed a home, so you created one.”

Her eyes go wide, looking around them again. “I… are you sure?” His watches her joy and wonder, a sliver of freedom and hope she has found for herself. “No, but I find it unlikely a child would be able to navigate the Fade time and time again to a specific place. Your mind created it and has kept it so.” She smiles, laughing as more tears flow from her. “Solas… would you…could you… show me what it is supposed to be like?

In an instant, a small table with two chairs appears on the pavilion before them. Eirikia makes a noise of both shock and laughter, radiating pure joy, and he finds himself smiling as he watches her. He rises, turning to offer her a hand. She takes it, rising to stand with him. “Would you care for a refreshment?” A questioning look crosses her face. “I would love a glass of wine.” A bottle and two glasses appear on the table. He walks over to a chair, pulling it out before gesturing for her to sit. She offers him a small bow before accepting the chair. He moves around her, reaching for the wine bottle, and filling the glass closest to her. She takes it from him, but waits until he sits to bring it to her mouth. Solas pours his glass as he watches her lift the glass to her nose to smell before taking a sip. “This is delicious! What is this? It’s sweet!” She turns the glass, examining it as though it would tell her by itself. “It is an Elven wine.”

Her eyes widen a bit, shifting from him back to the wine before taking another sip. He hides his amusement as his takes a drink from his wine. It tastes of a perfect summer ripened berry, and reminds him of days long past. Yet he finds that for the moment, he is content to be here.

“So you can smell magic?” She glances up from her wine, an amused smile playing on her features. “I can. It has been useful over the years. For example, when I find strange men in my bedroom.” A small laugh escapes him. “Ir abelas. I knew you were not all that you appeared, and I wanted to find out for myself.” She waves a hand in dismissal. “And now you know. It is forgotten.” He offers her a small smile. “Truly, though, you can smell all magic?” She takes a sip before nodding. “Mostly, yes. Mages are easier to decipher than anything else.”

“And what about Templars? Their lyrium?” She pinches her nose in disgust. “It smells cold, and crisp. Charred around the edges from the way it ruins their bodies.” He tilts his head slightly, thinking over this. “And what about the mark?” She holds up her hand, looking at the mark on her palm for a moment. “It is too much apart of me to be able to discern a smell, and truthfully that might be a blessing. I cannot see how that would be of use, other than haunt me with a foreign smell.” He smiles again, amused.

“Can you smell your own magic?” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes I will catch the faintest whiff, but only for a moment. Not long enough to know.” Taking a sip of wine, she stares into her glass before speaking. “I used to try to imagine sometimes, but there is simply no point in it.” Solas shakes his head, taking a sip of wine. “Perhaps that is not the case, but I understand your point.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at him. “Let’s speak of something else while we enjoy this lovely wine, shall we?”

Yes, for the moment, here is more than enough.  
———

The following day went by in complete normalcy (or as much as their current life offered.) Eirikia and Solas trained at dawn, Commander Cullen observing. Eirikia made no comment of their night spent in the Fade, but he would occasionally catch her with a small smile on her face.

Now, outside of the Fade, his mind kept coming back to the reality of the situation. Her being a Dreamer was a surprise, a wonderful and seemingly impossible one. He would have never assumed one from this age, much less a human, would be capable of such. Anger filled him whenever he thought of her spending her entire life hiding such a piece of her, for fear of having it taken away. Even in her semi state, this was a rare and precious thing.

Yet, he also wondered about the repercussions of last night. His pride and curiosity drove him to spy on her, within her most sacred place. The place he breached had been the only thing she had that was hers, and hers alone. The shock of his discovery had pinned him there, and her reaction pushed away any rational thought. She had been so joyful, so overwhelmed with delight with being able to tell _someone_ , yet alone another Dreamer.

He shakes his head, returning to present. He watches now as she trains with Cullen, eager in her willingness to learn and master whatever lesson presented. _I should not let this continue._ But even as he thinks it, he tries to imagine spending his life as she had. She knew she was a Dreamer, even as she had to hide it, but not a complete one. She has never known the fullness of her own ability, never been able to imagine what it would be like. Even a simple table and wine had overwhelmed her with childlike delight. _What would happen if I showed her more?_ It is a dangerous, _dangerous_ thought.

And yet, it keeps coming back.

———

There are a lot of things he might have expected to happen next, but _this_ wasn’t among them.

When Solas enters his cabin that night, he finds Eirikia. She is sitting propped up on his bed, legs crossed at the ankles. Her face is solemn as she looks at her hands. She looks up at him, but doesn’t say anything. He turns, closing the door behind him. Turning back to her, he tilts his head, asking an unspoken question: _What are you doing here, Eirikia?_

She sighs, looking back to her hands for a moment before swinging her legs off the edge of the bed and rising. “You are not like other people, Solas.” He lets out a small laugh. “Did you _just_ discover that?” She narrows her eyes at him. “No.” She moves, slow and graceful over to his desk, glancing casually over the notes and materials there. “I knew right away, but I have learned more so since then.” Turning, she takes several fluid steps towards him before stopping. “What is this about, Eirikia?” She looks away, her face pinching in thought. When she turns back to him, however, there’s a certainty set in her eyes. She takes another step forward as she says, “People like you and I struggle to find a place in this world where we can be ourselves.” Another step. “A place without hiding or fear.” She closes the gap, looking up into his face. “I want to offer you a place to be yourself, and hope you would offer the same in return.”

He holds her gaze, the bright blue of her eyes and the sincerity of her offer boring into him. “What are you suggesting?” A small hum comes from her and then a small smile. “I will not ask for more than you can give. You can keep as many secrets as you would like, but you would have a place to keep them if you do not wish to carry them alone.” His chest tightens. _She does not know what she asks._ “And what about you? What do you get from this?” She reaches up, laying a warm palm on his cheek. He clenches his jaw, but stays still otherwise. “I just want a place to be myself, Solas. No duality. No title. No faking. Just myself.” He releases a small breath through his nose, closing his eyes. _This will not end well._ He nods before opening his eyes. She is smiling brightly up at him, and his breath feels shallow. Eirikia pulls her hand away, and takes a step backwards. “You can call me Kia, if you would like.”

“Well, _Kia_ , what happens now?” Her smile turns coy as she says, “Now, I go back to my cabin and go to sleep. Perhaps I will see you in the Fade.” He narrows his eyes slightly, questioning her, but she just laughs. “Goodnight, Solas. Sleep well.”


	6. Peace Has Always Depended On The Ashes In My Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirikia would like to remind us all that she's incredibly powerful.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of assault

Eirikia is _very_ amused as she leaves Solas’s cabin. _He shouldn’t be surprised, he knows how the game is played._ Underneath her amusement though is a genuine happiness at how the situation turned out. She wasn’t sure what to expect, how he might handle her being so forward. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure what she had offered in the end. Never had she been able to speak her truth, never expected to find another like her, and yet she had. She smiles to herself, but lifts her head to focus on her next goal.

She veers right, towards the Chantry. Pausing behind the cluster of tents, she scans the area. Thankfully, most seem to have ventured to their beds or the tavern, as the area is dark and quiet. The campfire in front of the cluster is lit, but she has a plan in mind. Creeping into the shadows, she quietly makes her way around the back of the tent closest to her, moving towards the one in the center. She pauses to listen. There’s a clink of glass, the rustling of papers, but no voices. Taking that as her cue, Eirikia Fade steps around the side of the tent before stopping behind Leliana. She draws her dagger as the women spins, the women’s daggers meeting in a parry. They stare at each other, dark and viciously, before Eirikia’s mouth transforms into an amused grin and then full laughter. She sheathes her dagger, walking to the table Leliana uses as a desk. “I was hoping you could teach me how to be a spy. It seems incredibly useful.” Leliana chuckles, folding her arms at her chest as she studies the mage. “It would seem you already are.” Grabbing the glass of wine, Eirikia lifts to it to her nose before taking a sip. “There is always room for improvement, and _you_ are a Master, from what I understand.” She holds up the glass. “With a great taste in wine, as well.”

Leliana laughs, stepping off to the side and grabbing another glass for Eirikia. “Tell me why the Herald of Andraste, a renown fire mage, would want to learn the arts of the shadows.” She pours another glass and takes a sip as she studies Eirikia, who shrugs slightly. “I never like to be at a disadvantage.” Leliana hums in approval. “That is a fortunate stance for someone in your position to have. I will consider it.” Eirikia smiles wickedly at her victory as she takes another sip. “I do have a small lesson, if you would like.” Eirikia raises an eyebrow, Leliana bearing an amused smile on her lips. “ _Never_ drink out of another’s wineglass. You never know what might be in there.” The mage scoffs. “My dear Nightingale, if there is _anyone_ whose wineglass is safe, I do believe it is yours.”

Eirikia is raising the glass to her lips when she hears a shriek, followed by muffled grunts. Her eyes meet Leliana’s for a split second before they rush out of the tent. She spots the back of a solider moving into the shadows beside the Chantry. Grabbing Leliana, she jerks her head in his direction before Fade stepping behind him in the dark. She’s behind him before she smells it. _Lyrium. A Templar._ If she makes a wrong move, he’ll smite her in a heartbeat. Drawing a dagger, she presses it to his throat from behind. He grunts and freezes as Leliana closes the distance. She grabs the man, spinning to pin him against the wall, her dagger replacing Eirikia’s. _”What are you doing here?”_ Eirikia turns to find Elaine, crouched and shaking on the ground. “ _Elaine?_ ” The girl’s head pops up at her voice, and Eirikia rushes over, taking the girl into her arms. She is shaking, rocking slightly as Eirikia holds her. “What happened? Did he touch you?” The girl sobs, wrapping her arms around Eirikia’s waist. “H… He wanted information about you… and … and I wouldn’t tell him..” A sob racks her body again, and Eirikia gently rubs her back trying to calm her. “He wanted information about _me_?” Elaine lets out a shaking breath, pulling away to look up at her. “Yes, but I… I wouldn’t tell him anything! I promise! Then he…” She trails off, sobbing again. “Did her try another way of making you tell him?” She nods before another wave of sobs takes her. “Did he succeed? Did he hurt you?” Eirikia’s blood is boiling with anger, but Elaine shakes her head. “N.. no. He just… tried. Then you appeared.” _Thank the Maker for that._

She hugs Elaine before standing, spinning on the man Leliana still has at the edge of her blade. “We should just kill him.” Leliana is blunt, anger showing in the grip on her blade, her nostrils flaring. “I will hold him here, Leliana, please go get the Commander.” Her voice is cold, concentrated. She snaps her fingers, paralyzing the man. “Why? Just —“ Eirikia moves in between them, wrapping her finger around the woman’s wrist gently as she lowers her arm. “I have an idea, but we need the Commander.” Leliana studies her a split second longer before running off towards the gates. Eirikia spins, eyes pinned on the man before raising her own dagger to his throat. “Since we have a moment alone…” She pushes the dagger in, drawing a drop of blood. “How _dare_ you touch her? What gives you the _right_?” Her words are hisses laced with venom. Her restraint wavers, and she steps away from him. With a wave of her hand, she heals the wound she just made as she growls low in her throat. She begins pacing, twirling her dagger in one hand, her other bathed in flame. Elaine watches with wide eyes. “Will… will you kill him?” Eirikia breathes a deep sigh out through her nose as she puts out her flame. “No, da’len, I will not, but I _will_ make an _example_ out of him.”

Heavy footfalls come from behind her, and she turns while sheathing her dagger. Her jaw is clenched, her chest heaving in anger. Commander Cullen races up to her. “Herald, what is going on here?” He snaps, pointing to the man and soldiers grab him by both arms. Eirikia releases her spell on him and watches as he heaves a breath of anger before glaring at her. “Your _Templar_ assaulted my maid for information about me.” Eirikia turns, gesturing to Elaine behind her. The Elven girl shrinks in on herself, trying to hide from the attention. Cullen lets out a sigh as he takes in the sight of the girl, a hand raking over his face. “Leliana said you had an _idea_ for him.” Leliana scoffs from behind him. “Better just to kill him. What use is he?” Eirikia looks coldly from one to the other. “I do not plan to kill him, but I do have a _suggestion_ , if you’ll have it.” Cullen’s eyes narrow. “Yes?” She turns to Elaine, pushing her gently to Leliana’s side. “Do you trust me, Commander?” He groans. “Herald, this is hardly —“ She pins him with her gaze. _”Do you trust me?”_ She focuses on every word, drawing his attention to the importance of her question. He shakes his head slightly. “I… do, yes, but what —“

She holds up a hand to stop him, before marching over to the Templar. Stepping forward, she places a firm hand on the man’s jaw. The golden ring around her irises begins to glow and the loose hairs around her face begin to move from her spell. “You will spend a week in the dungeon, thinking on what has happened here tonight.” The hand on his face begins to glow and the man lets out a pained grunt. “Then you will be assigned to personally assist Lady Josephine. If anyone can teach you to respect women, it will be her. Guards will be present at all times.” Her hand brightens and the man whimpers. “If after a month, that has failed, we will assign you to Lady Cassandra. Be grateful I do not assign you to Sister Leliana, as she would surely poison you slowly.” Leliana huffs behind her. “He will be lucky if I do not still.” Her hand brightens again. The man clenches his jaw, tears coming to his eyes. Cullen takes a step towards her. “Eirikia…” She holds up her other hand, bathed in a small flame as a warning. “If, at any point during this, it comes to light that you have assaulted someone else - _I will kill you myself. Slowly._ ” Her hand turns vibrant suddenly, like hot coals. The man screams, and she pulls her hand away. There is a distinct burn mark in the shape of her hand. “Assault will not be tolerated in the Inquisition.” She takes her forefinger, running it along his jaw. He flinches at her touch. A soft blue light appears, healing his burn as she goes along. “Remember what I could have done tonight, and that I showed you mercy. Next time, I will not.” The man’s nostrils flare as he looks at her.

“Oh, Josie is going to love this.” Leliana’s amusement cuts the tension in the air. Cullen huffs, before speaking to her soldiers “You heard her. Take him to the dungeons. I’ll be there shortly.” Eirikia turns, walking the short distance to Elaine. “Go to my cabin, da’len. I will be there shortly. Leliana will go with you to make sure you are safe.” The Elven girl nods, turning as Leliana sets a gentle hand on her back. She makes eye contact with Eirikia for a fleeting moment before turning away. “You could have warned me.” She lets out a sigh as she turns to face the Commander. “I did.” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Asking if I _trust_ you is hardly the same as _’I’m going to magically torture this soldier.’_ ” Her eyes narrow, stepping closer to him. “Tell me Commander, what degree would you go for one of your own?”

“That is hardly —“

“It is. She _is_ my own. We both agreed to help this Inquisition as leaders and protectors, and I will _not_ let assault go unchecked.” He sighs, uncrossing his arms as he shakes his head in defeat. “You’re right.” He watches her for a moment before shaking his head again. “You are terrifying. Do you know that?” She smirks at him. “I think you rather like how terrifying I can be.” His eyebrows shoot up. “No! I mean… _perhaps_ , I didn’t mean…” She laughs at his fumbling. “Go take care of things, Commander. I shall see you in the morning.”

——

She stops on the way to her cabin to ask another worker to bring a bedroll and fresh tea, not explaining anything about Elaine. This would happen occasionally in the Circle, and often left the girls awake most of the night in fits of terror. Eirikia didn’t want that for Elaine, nor did she want to draw more attention to her than she already had.

Leliana is crouched in front of the Elven girl when she arrives, speaking more softly than Eirikia can hear. She glances up, meeting eyes with Eirikia before rising and walking towards her. “She is very badly shaken up about this.” Eirikia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in between her fingers. “I suspected she might be.” There’s a soft knock on her door, and the worker steps in. She is quick to take the tea, handing it to Leliana, before taking the bedroll. She thanks them before quickly ushering them out. Leliana raises an eyebrow at her, but turns to set the tea down on the table where Elaine is sitting. Eirikia sets the bedroll down in a chair before pouring a cup of tea for Elaine, crouching in front of her. “Dear one, please drink this. It will help to calm you.” Elaine is visibly shaking, and Eirikia has to help her get the cup to her lips. “Da’len, I want you to stay in here tonight. I know a spell that will help you have a peaceful, dreamless sleep.” Elaine shakes her head, knocking the cup. Tea sloshes over the side which causes Elaine to start crying. “No, my…. My Lady… I cannot —“ Eirikia holds up a hand, pressing it gently to her mouth to hush her. She brings the cup to Elaine’s mouth, letting her take another sip. “Tomorrow, you can go back to life as normal, but for now I would feel better knowing that you are safe. Will you let me help you?” Elaine’s big eyes look at her, wide with fear and anxiety, but she nods.

Eirikia stands, leaning over to grab the bedroll before laying it out near the fireplace. She gestures to Elaine, who shakily sets down the tea cup before rising to walk over to her. Eirikia crouches beside her as Elaine lays in the bedroll. She smiles warmly, taking the girl’s hand in hers while placing her other hand on her forehead. She’s asleep in an instant, her face relaxing in a way Eirikia has never seen it. She squeezes the girl’s hand once before letting go and rising.

“Do you always personally attend to the injustices of the world, or did you make a special case for her?” She walks past where Leliana has been watching, moving to sit at the table. Pouring a cup of tea for herself, she says, “Unfortunately, I am not always able to personally attend or perhaps I would.” She takes a long drink of her tea as she feels Leliana study her, before pulling out a chair for herself. Eirikia sighs deeply, staring into her cup. “In the Tower… I would _use_ my power and influence, as it were, to make the conditions better.”

“You played the Game.”

She nods, taking another drink of the tea. “Templars, however, I could not control. It was one area that I could only do so much without putting myself or others in risk. So girls would sneak back in the dark, crying and unable to sleep… this was the only thing I could do for them. I could not make the injustice go away, but I could help heal the wound it left.”

Leliana studies her without speaking for several moments. “You have power now to make a change in this world, Herald. We are standing on the precipice of change, and you are at its forefront.” She pauses, tilting her head. “I think you will bear this weight well.” She rises from the chair, bowing her head to Eirikia in farewell. At the door, she pauses. Not turning back, she says, “We will begin your training when you return from the Hinterlands.” Then she opens the door, walking out into the night.


	7. To Help A Soul & Heal A Bitter Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirikia faces the consequences of her actions with the Templar. // Wrapping up before heading out to the Hinterlands.

She sat quietly, watching Elaine sleep peacefully for some time. Her mind was lost to roaming over similar nights in the Circle tower.

When she finally ventured into the Fade, Solas was already there.

He was sitting at the table and chairs that he had conjured the night previously, wineglass in hand. Eirikia offers him a small smile as she sits across from him, wrapping a hand around the glass he had already poured for her. He tilts his head as his gaze roams over her. “Perhaps I should not have presumed…?” A sigh leaves her as she shakes her head, lifting her wineglass for a small drink. “No, Solas, you were quite right in your assumption. It’s just… something happened, not long after I left you.” She studies her drink, moving it in small, circular motions. Solas stiffens before setting down his own drink on the table. He waits patiently, but the weight of his unspoken questions presses heavily. “My maid, Elaine… She is a small Elven girl, of perhaps 18. Easily frightened and often very nervous, but she is a sweet girl.”The tears that spring into her eyes then burn, and force her to pause her story. Taking another drink from the wine, she pushes the tears back before continuing. “Elaine is… precious to me, in a way I cannot explain. I hardly know her, yet I feel… _protective_ of her, I suppose.” Unbidden images appear in her mind of Elaine crouched on the ground, her small framed wracked with sobs. Eirikia’s jaw clenches down in anger, her nostrils flaring at the images. “A Templar assaulted her in an attempt to gather information about me.” A sharp breath comes out through her nose, her chest tight from the heat of the anger within her. “ _Thankfully_ , Leliana and I were able to get to them before it went any farther. Even still, it should not have happened.”

Solas sat unmoving as he listened to her, only watching with a fixed gaze, something unreadable deep within his eyes. “What happened to the Templar?” Her face changes, a wicked smile spreading across her features. “I convinced the Advisors to let _me_ punish him. He bore my wrath before I offered him mercy. I would not be surprised if you heard about it tomorrow, as the Commander was very displeased. I believe he used the word _’terrifying’_.” A deep, throaty chuckle comes from the man across from her. The sound makes warmth bloom into her chest, and her smile seems warmer, even to herself. “I can hardly imagine you being ‘terrifying’.” Solas leans forward, gracefully wrapping his hand around the wineglass before settling back into the chair. “Perhaps you should widen your imagination then.” Eirikia is pleased to resume their typical banter, a coy smile on playing on her lips. His eyes do not leave her as he takes a drink of the wine, swallows, and brings it back down from his lips. “Perhaps I should.”

Bringing her own glass to her lips, she takes a drink. Holding it on her tongue for a moment, she tries to savor the taste before swallowing. “One thing at a time, I’m afraid. Tonight I would very much like for you to continue showing me the pleasantries that come from being a Dreamer.”

——-

When Eirikia awakens the next morning, she hurriedly sits up to check on Elaine. Unsurprisingly, the girl has already awaken and left. Presumably, her internal clock woke her for her daily duties, but there is a pang in Eirikia’s chest at the absence. She sits up, folding her long legs underneath her as she looks at the place the Elven girl had slept the night before. Elaine had neatly folded and placed the bedroll and blanket on the table, also taking the remnants of last night’s tea.

She stares at the space on the floor, eyes fixed but unfocused, as a confusion of morning thoughts slip through her mind. She doesn’t hear the small knock on her door, or the slight creak as it opens, but her eyes quickly find the small frame as it enters the cabin. A warm, sleepy smile spreads across her face at the sight of the girl. Elaine, seeing her mistress awake, gives a bow of her head. “Good morning, my Lady. I have brought your morning tea and bread fresh from the oven.” She sets the tray down, beginning to move the dishes onto the table. Eirikia slides out of bed and over to the table. Her eyes momentarily glance over the spread before coming back to Elaine, a smile on her face. “Thank you, dear one. Did you sleep well?” The girl emphatically nods, her eyes light and cheerful. “Truthfully, my Lady, I have not slept that well in… perhaps my entire life. Thank you, ever much, for allowing me to stay here.” She bows at her mistress before her hands snake in on themselves, giving away to her nervous nature. Eirikia wraps her hands around the small ones. “It was no trouble, da’len. I am grateful to have been of service.” Squeezing the girl’s hands, she releases to pour herself a cup of tea.

“Word has spread all over Haven about what you did last night. No one knows it was me, probably assuming my absence was… related to _other things_.” Eirikia chokes on her drink and moves a delicate hand to cover her mouth as she swallows. Her eyes flick to Elaine, who looks equally amused. “Thank the Maker for small mercies, da’len.” She winks at the girl, who giggles. Her hands shoot up to her mouth in surprise, but her eyes twinkle in humor. “I will let you finish getting ready for the day, my Lady. Thank you, again.” She bows again before turning to leave.

Eirikia says a grateful prayer to whoever as listening as she drinks her morning tea.

———

Leliana is meeting with her scouts when Eirikia appears at the opening of her tent. Their eyes meet through the cluster of heads, Eirikia nodding in greeting. She moves along the inside of the tent, around the scouts, to watch the Spymaster finish her meeting. “I need more reports of what the Templars are doing. Do we have a lead on where they have moved to?” No one answers her question, and her mouth tightens. “I will ask Commander Cullen if he still has any contacts in the Order within Fereldan. Hopefully, we may pick up a trail. For now, I would like more eyes in Redcliffe.” The group nods in unison before all turning to leave.

The Spymaster turns to greet her with a face shining in amusement. “Josephine was _thrilled_ when I informed her this morning of her new assistant.” Eirikia’s lips press together as she exhales through her nose. “This Inquisition is hardly old enough to be able to afford losing people. Especially ones that could be disciplined.” She folds her arms in at her chest, her gaze moving towards the Chantry. “Though I did not agree at the time, I am rather proud of how you handled the incident, Herald. Josephine will not be happy, but she will make the boy learn.”

Eirikia sighs, letting her hands fall to her sides. “How fortunate then the Hinterlands will rescue me from the Ambassador’s displeasure.” Leliana chuckles, turning to her makeshift desk. “Indeed, but I would recommend speaking to her about this before you embark.”

———

Eirikia tentatively knocks on the door of the Lady Ambassador’s office. An exasperated “Come in!” hits her hard enough through the closed door that Eirikia winces. She slowly edges the door open, meekly stepping into the office. Josephine is furiously writing as she steps closer, not saying anything until Eirikia reaches the edge of her desk. “I suppose I should thank you for me time to prepare for my new _assistant._ ” The Ambassador sets her pen down, looking up into Eirikia’s face. The unreadable sternness in her expression reminds her of her mother, and the thought makes her shift uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Lady Josephine. I only thought that perhaps —“ The woman lifts a graceful brown hand, halting her speech. “I am… frustrated, undoubtedly, Herald. Yet, I received a full report from both the Spymaster and Commander Cullen, and given time to think it over… I am grateful for the way you handled the situation.”

Her eyes widen as she studies the woman. Josephine sighs, her fingers tapping the edge of the desk briefly as she thinks. “Leliana has a good heart, but she would have reacted with a quick and sure death, as you know. Commander Cullen is much the same, but he would have thrown the man out.” She pauses, her gaze shifting over Eirikia, before waving her hand. “Yet _you_ acted with disciplined mercy, offering a chance for redemption while also handling the situation at hand. This protects us from those who would spread vile rumors of us before we had a chance to _start_ our work. Truly, it was the best course of action. One, I can only imagine, is due to your noble upbringing. I have heard of your father’s kindness towards his people. It would seem you also bear that trait.”

Eirikia shoulders and legs relax in relief, her face melting into a grateful smile. “Indeed, Lady Ambassador. My father did try to instill in all of his children what wearing a noble title should truly mean.” Josephine smiles in return as she says, “It would seem he taught you well. This is also something we can use to our advantage. The Herald of Andraste protecting her own, discipling the unrighteous, while also offering mercy is something even the Chantry cannot deny.” Eirikia releases a flutter of laughter. “That was not something I thought of at the time, but you are correct. I am glad that this meets your approval.”

“Indeed, but I am glad you came to speak with me. I would like to inquire about your parents. You are on good standing with them, from what I understand, and surprisingly well loved by the people. I was hoping we might approach them for aid, at the very least, spreading good about us against the false rumors.”

Amidst everything that had occurred since the Conclave, Eirikia had completely neglected to think of her family. _Have they heard the news? Would they be worried, or have they heard I survived?_ She chides herself, already hearing her Mother’s nagging and Father’s worried tone. “That is a brilliant idea, Lady Ambassador. I must admit that I have neglected to write to them, so this provides me an opportunity to do just that. I will ask Father for aid, and to speak on our behalf to the other noble families in our circle of friends.”

Josephine smiles brightly at her words. “Very good, my Lady. I will have someone send you a writing set to your cabin right away. Please, do try to send the letter out before you leave for the Hinterlands.”

———

Dearest Family,

Though I am sure you have heard, I am writing to inform you myself, and through my own perspective. There was an attack at the Conclave, resulting in the death of everyone there, including the Divine. I am the sole survivor, but no ability to decipher the reason for that. The explosion also created a giant hole within the Veil that is now being called The Breach. Smaller holes are considered rifts. My hand now bears a mark of magic that seems to be able to help in closing the rifts left in the wake of this disaster. There is a possibility that it might also close The Breach.

The Divine asked her Left and Right Hands to recreate the Inquisition of old, helping to foster peace in such a turbulent time as this. They have asked me to stay, offering me protection in exchange for my help in closing the rifts. I have, naturally, agreed.

They are calling me The Herald of Andraste, because of how I survived. I will do my best to bring honor to our house and title with my role here.

I have been honing my battle magic, as well as learning combat from the Inquisition’s Commander. He was the former Knight-Commander in Kirkwall after Meredith perished. He is a kind and decent man, and is training me well. You would be pleased, Father. The Ambassador of the Inquisition is a bright Antivian woman by the name of Josephine Montilyet. I do not know much about her family, but she is of the reputable sort.

She has asked, as do I, that you may use your own title and reputation to garner interest for this cause. I will do my best, but it would do well for my family to give their support. The Chantry has not taken well to my title, as you might imagine, and we are in desperate need for allies. I do believe the Inquisition is the best chance Thedas has at trying to undo some of the chaos and turmoil in our world.

I will soon be traveling to the Hinterlands, an area near Redcliffe, to try and offer some relief to the problems there. I am uncertain when I will be back to Haven, but I greatly look forward to hearing from you.

All my love, Eirikia.


End file.
